A Love Letter to San Francisco: My Forever Hometown
May 25 is National Hometown Area Local Day — and for me, that means one thing: a moment to pause and celebrate the city that raised me, shaped me, and still holds my heart. San Francisco isn’t just a place on a map. It’s a mood, a memory, a mash-up of cultures, eras, and neighborhoods that all somehow work together — and no matter where life has taken me, it’s still home.
So, in honor of the city by the Bay, here’s a look back at the local spots that defined my San Francisco — the one I grew up in, came of age in, and will always carry with me.
Haight-Ashbury: Psychedelic Roots & Thrift Store Gold
Let’s start in the Haight — where the spirit of the ‘60s still lingers in the air like incense and vintage leather. Growing up, it was a neighborhood that never tried to be anything other than itself. It was weird. It was loud. It was proudly offbeat. And it was perfect.
As a teen, I’d spend whole afternoons bouncing between Amoeba Records, vintage shops, and grabbing a slice from Escape From New York Pizza before heading to the park. Golden Gate Park felt endless back then — drum circles and outdoor movie nights that seemed to last all summer. Sure, the Haight has changed — a little more curated now, a little less wild — but it still holds that creative spark. It’s where I learned that personal style doesn’t need to follow rules, and that weird is wonderful.
The Marina: Sundays, Sunsets & Something Sparkly
Ah, the Marina. It was our version of grown-up fun before we were actually grown-ups. Back in the day, Chestnut Street was the place for patio brunches, picking up a new outfit for “going out” later, or pretending you were just casually strolling past PlumpJack hoping to run into someone you knew.
And nothing — I mean nothing — beats a Marina sunset. Walking down by Crissy Field or the Marina Green as the fog rolled in, bundled in a hoodie you swore you didn’t need earlier... those were the best kinds of nights. The kind where you didn’t need a plan — just good friends, the smell of the ocean, and a view of the Golden Gate that still makes you stop and breathe.
Fillmore Street: When Street Fairs Were Everything
If you know, you know: Fillmore Street in the summer used to be it. There was something magical about those neighborhood street fairs — live jazz on one block, local vendors on the next, the smell of kettle corn mixing with barbecue and fresh-cut flowers. It felt like the whole city showed up.
We’d spend hours wandering from booth to booth, picking up hand-painted earrings or rare vinyl, maybe even getting our palms read just for the story. There was a joy in how unpolished it all was — no hashtags, no influencers, just community. Real faces, real food, real fun. I miss that. A lot. But the memories still show up when I walk that street, and honestly? That’s enough.
Once a Fan, Always a Fan: Bay Area Teams for Life
And of course — I can’t talk about my hometown without mentioning my teams. The 49ers and the Warriors are practically part of my DNA. I remember watching Joe Montana with my dad, wrapped in a red-and-gold blanket like it was sacred. And now? Watching the Warriors bring that dynasty energy while repping The Town? Pure pride.
We’ve had our ups and downs — as true fans do — but the loyalty runs deep. Game days still bring people together in a way that feels like home, no matter where you are. There's just something about cheering on your hometown team that hits different.
Home Is a Feeling
San Francisco may have changed since “back in my day,” but the heart of it — the magic, the messiness, the soul — is still there. You can find it in a dive bar jukebox, a corner café that’s somehow still open, or the way the fog rolls in just right over the hills.
So this May 25, I’m raising a matcha (and maybe a Giants garlic fry) to the city that shaped me. Because no matter how far I go, SF will always be home.
