Traveling changes you.
Traveling has reshaped me in ways I never expected. That first nervous solo flight to Argentina feels like a lifetime ago. I can still picture myself gripping my passport too tightly, unprepared for whatever was waiting on the other side. Now those jitters have faded into a collage of memories: tasting street food in Hong Kong beneath neon lights, standing in the stunning silence of the Spanish countryside, watching the Northern Lights ripple in strands of green.
I’ve lived the whole spectrum; dancing until dawn in Marie Antoinette’s courtyard, wandering completely lost through Florence, and crying quietly at the beauty of sunrise over Sydney Harbor.
Life at home feels different, too. Some friends understand the person I’ve become, while others seem unsure of the version that returns from Montreal or Auckland. But each place has carved me into something new; taking away what no longer fits and giving me pieces I didn’t know I was missing. The journey keeps unfolding, from Munich to Nuuk, from Melbourne to Madrid, and with it, so does the ongoing transformation of who I am.