A lyrical meditation on duality, identity, and the quiet courage of becoming.

In The Cities I Carry, the author turns toward Montreal — not as a destination, but as an emotional landscape shaped by layered truths, winter light, and the soft expansiveness of living in more than one direction at once. A city imagined through two languages, old stone, and the gentle tension of belonging without choosing just one self.

Though she has never walked its streets, Montreal lives in her like a quiet widening. Its duality becomes a metaphor for the selves we carry, the contradictions that soften us, and the layered identities that shape who we become.

Through eight intimate, atmospheric essays, she explores:

the city where she learns to hold two truths at once

the street that speaks in two languages

the winter that teaches her how to stay

the light that softens even the sharpest edges

the quiet that holds both sides of her

the version of herself that learns to translate

the city that lets her belong without choosing one self

the moment she realizes she doesn’t have to be singular

With prose as gentle as winter light and as steady as old stone, I’ve Never Been to Montreal, but I Know the Self That Exists Between Worlds invites readers to consider the layered parts of themselves — the ones shaped not by travel, but by duality, softness, and the quiet truths carried across a lifetime.

For readers of reflective, poetic nonfiction, this book is a companion for anyone who has ever felt complex, divided, or unfinished — anyone learning to hold fear and hope at the same time.

Montreal may be imagined, but the multiplicity is real. And sometimes the cities we’ve never walked are the ones that teach us how to belong to all the selves we carry.