Epilogue of a Preface

Who am I?
Ok, that’s a very existential question, and an overwhelming one. I am a woman trying to find her way and what feels good.  I am a (single) mom. I am an expat. I am ambitious. I value kindness. I love feeling pampered and good in my skin. I am a foodie. I am a corporate employee by day, but dream of entrepreneurial success. I crave creativity and freedom, but I find the vast opportunity of the Universe harrowing.
This blog is a project for me, so I can look back at my adventure, kind of like I do with childhood photo albums. This blog is a project for all women out there who are on their own journeys, mastering their own trials and are looking for someone to identify with.  While the settings of our stories are never the same, I am always amazed by the common themes that unite us. 
As part of this exercise, I looked back over my previous blog entries and they all resonated with me, where I am, what I still feel, so I am including them here, as part of my journey, because I would not be where I am or who I am today without any piece of what proceeded it.
Enough of the waxing nostalgic, though. Concretely speaking, right now, I am on leave from my corporate job following a PTSD attack that, finally, made me take stock of my life and take the time to start healing myself after living the last 3 years in survival mode. As awful as it felt in the moment, I am so grateful that it happened at a time that I had the support to guide me through it, and that I live in a country that makes it possible financially.
My days are filled with yoga, creating healthy, edible concoctions, journaling, meditating and any kind of creative medium that I can get my hands on. I am typically not a very spiritual person, so I was incredibly surprised that this was my self-prescribed treatment. I guess because living in survival mode is such a primal state, yoga and giving massages have had a profound effect on me and they began bringing me back to my body. I wish I was being metaphorical, but I would frequently forget that I had hands and feet, let alone the rest of me. Oh, and apparently, I have emotions. They are kinda all over the place right now and I have less than zero control over which way they are going to swing at any given moment.  You have been warned. How do I deal with these things? How is it that I forgot what it was like to feel anything other than that fight or flight feeling?
And I know it’s not just me, when I look around, I see so many people living like that; each one has his or her own story.  Maybe they’ve endured their own traumas or maybe it is fear mongering, but the reason really doesn’t make any difference from where I am standing. Looking at it, though, I realise two things: I don’t want to be part of that anxiety ridden, fear driven society anymore; and I am so lucky to be surrounded and supported by friends and family, whether by blood or chosen.

I wish I could give you some indication about which way this story will end.  I have a hunch that it is all going to work out, but I guess we will find out together.


  1. Even though I've heard so much of this from you through the ups and downs in the last few years, it's still great to read this. You have a powerful voice, woman.

    Sidenote: check out her massages, folks! They are amazing!


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