This isn’t a place for polished posts or catchy headlines.
It’s an archive of healing.
A breadcrumb trail of softness, struggle, joy, and return.
Come in as you are.
One Year in Lisbon
One year after moving to Lisbon alone, I’m looking back at the life I built, the body I’m learning to listen to, the friendships I made on purpose, and the freedom that now feels less like escape and more like room.
Home, With an Asterisk.
I went home and felt it immediately, the love, the laughter, the food, the way New Orleans still knows how to bring me back to myself in one bite.
What surprised me wasn’t the love. It was the cost.
This is a reflection on home, the body, and what changes when you start choosing where you can rest.