What happens when you move to a new country for someone who isn’t even your boyfriend… with no apartment, no job, and no real plan?

MY heart is running as I hold your hand.
MY feet begin to feel rooted in every step.
I trust YOUR hand and its plans for me.

Life isn’t one interpretation.

What once protected us becomes a fence, a horizon we forget we chose. Beyond it, parts of ourselves wait, buried, not lost.

To cross is not to travel, but to remember.

To throw the heart over the fence is to choose a life worthy of every heartbeat.

It’s what I reach for when life feels paused, or when I notice myself slipping into that quiet state of being “comfortably numb.”
So I shuffle, I mix, I pivot. I move away from the temptation of settling, of silencing myself to fit a script that was never mine.

After months of travelling and teaching, I realised I had been living life on repeat, comfortable yet disconnected from my own spirit. This piece is the beginning of my journey back to aliveness, instinct, and the fire I had long ignored.