Hi All!

It’s been a while since I’ve written. In my search for meaning, self-discovery, and the joy of simply doing what I love, I’ve found myself returning to writing. It’s always been home.

Before I could begin again, I had to ask myself—why did I ever stop?

The answer took me back to San Francisco, to a time when I thought I had it all. I was living in a city I loved, surrounded by soul friends and held in a community where I felt fully myself. Even after a car accident left me with a broken foot, I still had what mattered most: connection, freedom, and joy.

And then, the moment came. My visa had expired. I had to leave.

What followed was grief. Deep, disorienting mourning—for a life I didn’t want to let go of. I wasn’t just leaving a place; I was leaving a version of myself that felt finally alive, finally at home. The rupture was sudden, and it cracked something open.

I returned to Colombia—a place I love, but one I no longer fit into. I struggled to find a job, and I began searching for connection in new ways. In that search, I started a relationship that I believed might be the answer. In pursuit of something new, I moved to Germany, hoping for a fresh start. There, I entered a long-distance relationship, trying to mend the broken pieces. Yet, despite the promise of novelty, I found myself drifting further from who I truly was. I eventually returned to Colombia, only to realize I was still searching for belonging.

In that ache, I longed for connection—and eventually, love led me to Australia. But as I settled there, I discovered that I had remained in a toxic relationship far too long. I ignored the whispers of my gut, abandoning my truth in the hope that things would eventually change. That choice brought more darkness. I kept falling, until I couldn’t anymore.

Eventually, I found something inside me I hadn’t felt in a long time: strength. The quiet, unwavering kind. I realized that the answer wasn’t outside of me—it was within. No one was coming to save me; if I wanted to live differently, I had to take the wheel of my own life.

So I did.

I ended the relationship. I let go of the home I had built, along with the comforting presence of my beautiful dog, Molly. I walked away from the people and patterns that were keeping me stuck. I chose myself—fully—for the first time in a long time.

So why did I stop writing?

Because I lost myself. The pain I carried felt too heavy to name. I couldn’t see the light within it, and sharing from that place seemed impossible.

But today, I feel free again. The process of getting here was painful—yes—but also sacred. Even now, as I face new uncertainties like a job search, I see life through a new lens. I understand more. I hold myself with greater compassion.

I now know that the life I had in San Francisco—while beautiful—was not the whole story.

I now know that the relationship I clung to taught me not only the depth of love I’m capable of giving, but also the kind of love I will never accept again.

No matter what I go through, I will grow. I will learn. I will transform pain into compassion and struggle into wisdom. That, to me, is everything.

Today, I lead a peaceful, healthy life. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. And I wouldn’t trade that peace for anything. Now, I’m simply adding the sparkles—just for me.

Why do I share this?

For myself, and for anyone who needs it. Because if I could find my way through, so can you.

There’s more to come. We’re just getting started.

Stay tuned.