Madrid Teaches Me How to Stay

There are cities that teach you how to leave. Madrid taught me how to stay.

I don’t mean stay in the literal sense, although I have. I mean stay present. Stay grounded. Stay connected to myself even when life feels noisy or demanding. Madrid has a way of doing that without trying. It doesn’t rush you. It doesn’t perform for you. It just exists, confidently, unapologetically, inviting you to find your own rhythm inside it.

I notice it most when I’m walking without a destination. No plan, no urgency, just letting the streets decide for me. The same streets I’ve walked a thousand times still manage to surprise me. A familiar corner suddenly looks different depending on the light. A café feels warmer in winter. A bench becomes a place to sit and think instead of just a place to pass by. Madrid rewards slowness if you let it.

Being born here but shaped by other worlds has given me a particular relationship with this city. Madrid is home, but it is also something I continually rediscover. It holds my everyday life, while quietly making room for everything else I carry with me. Other languages. Other memories. Other ways of being. It never asks me to choose between them.

There is something deeply comforting about that. About belonging without explanation. About being able to exist in a place without having to constantly define yourself. Madrid lets me be complex in a very simple way. It gives me space to think, to observe, to sit with my thoughts without needing to turn them into something productive immediately.

I think that’s why I write so easily here. The city mirrors the way I want to live and write. Slowly. Honestly. Attentive to small details. Open to change without demanding it. Madrid doesn’t push me forward, but it doesn’t hold me back either. It just walks alongside me.

Some cities push you to become someone new. Madrid reminds me of who I already am.

And for now, that feels like exactly what I need.

— Raulito