Today marks one month of traveling solo. One month of waking up in new cities, unfamiliar beds, one month of finding out what true freedom actually feels like.
I still have another month ahead of me - maybe longer, if I can stretch the savings I worked so hard to set aside. Saving for this trip meant sacrifice. Being on this trip still means sacrifice. I can’t eat at every beautiful restaurant that calls my name, I can’t slip into every boutique and carry its treasures home with me. If my journey were shorter, maybe. But this is not vacation: this is an unraveling, a rewriting of how I want life to be going forward.
The truth is, I would trade every expensive dinner, every silk dress (including the one I bought in Rome), every glass of wine for this: two months to myself. Two months without someone telling me when to work, when to eat, when to sleep, when to wake up. Two months where my only obligation is to listen to the pull of my own body, my own spirit.
I am free.
I don’t know if I have ever known freedom like this before. It’s intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure. Some mornings I wake up and ask myself - what now? Should I be sightseeing? Is it okay to do nothing today? Who am I when no one is asking anything of me?
After more than two years in a relationship where expectation clung to me like a shadow, I’m learning to bask in this strange light. Here. the only expectation I carry is to not die, and to say yes - to everything that lights me up. To trust that life is leading me exactly where I need to go. To trust that every person who crosses my path is here to teach me something, or to learn something from me.
Already in this first month, I have been taught so much. Palermo sang to me in colors and play, Levanzo gave me the rhythm of the sea, and the hills of Tuscany slowed me down until I could hear my heart beat again. And now, I find myself in Lisbon - restless, beautiful, chaotic, quiet. I haven’t yet discovered what she wants to say to me. Lisbon hasn’t opened herself the way the others did. But I trust she will.
Maybe Lisbon is where I lean into my masculine - where I anchor myself and refine the business I am building. Or perhaps she will demand I dissolve into creativity, unearth corners of my mind I haven’t yet touched. Maybe she’s not here to dazzle me at all. Maybe Lisbon is here to teach me that freedom isn’t always about doing, or chasing, or conquering. Sometimes freedom is found in the pause - watching the world walk by, in being content to simply exist.
Maybe Lisbon is not a lesson, but a mirror.
And maybe, that too, is freedom.
What Palermo & Levanzo, Sicily taught me:
Tutto passa - everything passes.
Say yes. Don’t plan so rigidly. Even the plans you think are fixed can shift, and something more beautiful might arrive in their place.
Put your phone down. Let life be the thing that captivates you. Look up, let strangers surprise you, let yourself be seen. Ask yourself: am I using my phone as armor from letting people in?
Drink coffee like Italians. Respect the culture of where you are, not the one you came from. Know how to say hello, goodbye and thank you - use them often. It matters deeply to those whose country and land you are walking on.
Learn the history of the city you’re visiting. It will make your experience feel more rooted, more vivid, more alive. It’s not all about the perfect picture. Know the story behind the image. Be present, be curious.
Spend a day alone, even if you aren’t traveling solo. Order food for yourself, get a little lost, find out what you are made of.
The sea is a force - she wins every time. If you think you get sea sick, sit in the back of the boat. If you’re not sure, sit in the back of the boat. What felt like a 50-hour journey (but was really 45 mins) across the choppiest seas of my life was maybe the moment I thought I might actually die.
Everyone you meet has a story. If you are lucky enough to hear it, listen. Really listen, with intention - to the cab driver, the person sitting next to you at the wine bar, the waitress who comes over to chat between customers. This is living. This is real connection And you never know who you will meet.
Disconnect. You don’t need to carry the weight of others expectations while you are leaning into your own freedom. Let them wait.
Let yourself feel everything. Don’t be scared of your own capacity. Expand.
In the end, Palermo and Levanzo taught me that freedom is not found in control, but in surrender - to the rhythm of the streets, the crash of the sea, the strangers who become guides, and the moments that break you open just enough to let the light back in.
What Tuscany, Italy taught me:
I am not alone in this world. My people are out there, waiting to be found. I found many in Tuscany.
Elders are essential. No matter our age, they are the guides, the shamans, the wise ones. And one day, we will become elders for someone else. May we use that role with care and with goodness.
Thresholds shape us. They are the doorways to the person we know we can become. Don’t cower from them. Walk through, even when fear grips you. Thresholds will keep arriving and if you don’t choose the ones you want, life will shove you through the ones that hurt.
Human connection is everything. If I could choose only one thing to carry with me for the rest of my life, it would be this: quality human connection. Choose people who elevate you. Nothing else compares.
Drum in a field after dark, under a full moon. Sing to the moon with other women if you are ever given the chance. One night in Tuscany we (me and 5 other women) sang, drummed, howled and praised the moon for simply existing. It was the most gratifying human experience of my life. Honor the earth, the sky, all of the elements. Honor what we forget to see everyday. And be weird, who cares.
Let people be who they are. It isn’t personal. In fact, it’s the best thing you can do for their spirit. In the words of Ram Dass, ‘We are all just walking each other home.’
Nourishment matters. The way you treat your body is the way your body will carry you forward.
There is more than enough - of love, of success, of abundance. Scarcity is an illusion. It may look different for each of us, but there is enough to go around. Don’t hoard love. Don’t shrink it. Give it freely - you’ll never lose by sharing.
Receive. Ask for what you want. Let others take care of you. Love from a full cup. Listen. Feel. Share.
Movement brings answers, so does stillness.
Know which you need and why.
If Palermo taught me to keep my eyes open to the world., Tuscany taught me to close them - and listen inward. To remember that the thresholds, the drums, the moonlight, the laughter, the silence, they’re all part of the same path: the one leading me back to myself.
Tuscany whispered that life is not a race to the next horizon, but an initiation into deeper being. That connection - to people, to earth, to spirit - is the true wealth.
Lisbon is still a question mark, a city that hasn’t fully revealed herself. I don’t yet know what she will ask of me, or how she will stretch the edges of who I am. Maybe she will teach me patience, maybe daring, maybe something I cannot name yet. For now, I walk her streets like a quiet observer, letting the city speak to me in small fragments - the smell of pastries early in the morning, glimpses of the water between buildings, music and laughter drifting from the walk streets where locals and tourists mingle. There is a freedom in not knowing her yet: a chance to discover, to respond, and to be surprised by the life that unfolds here.
xxoo
This is so beautifully written, what a potent time ✨❤️
Beautiful. You’re doing it right. And even if you were doing it wrong, you are doing it right. Living through you…. Me ❤️