On a day like this (September 21st), nine years ago, I arrived in Romania for the first time. Someone asked me last night if it was easy to leave Peru. And then I remembered saying goodbye to my mom at the airport. «I don’t know. I was very excited. I know I had several goodbyes with family and friends. I was really looking forward to a big change.»
I like to plan. I love it when things go according to that plan. But when they don’t, I feel disappointed and quickly try to reflect. That’s how I feel like I’m wired.
The excitement of change faded quickly. And since then, it’s been a series of lessons about who I am and where I’m going. Sometimes I have the same answers, but more often they change.
I lost many things this year. And my walks with Bubi and Coco (my puppies) have been perfect moments to give my mind some space. I’ve enjoyed them. I wish I could say that this year is my year to focus on mental health—my own, I mean. But that focus should always be there.
I’ve pleasantly discovered that I don’t always like being surrounded by people. That I appreciate solitude. The company of just a few. But I also like adding routines that remind me of special people. A route, a sport, a color, a song, a coffee, a dish, a personal care product. A positive thought.
Sometimes I make mental notes of beautiful things I think about someone in my family. A friend. And I send them, hoping they feel that affection.
I’ve been asked if I plan to stay here forever. And I’ve answered that «forever» is too long a plan. The pandemic was a big reminder of how little control we have in our hands.
Romania, for me, is that same reminder.
I woke up really wanting to go for a walk with my little ones. We’ve felt the cold breeze and the warmth of the sun at the same time. We’ve played. I’ve had my coffee. But I’ve also done laundry, and disinfected the kitchen. It’s adult life.
It’s a special day. And I’ll think of all the people I know who have left their homes to search for something better with hope. Or who have ended a chapter of their lives. I’ll think of their struggles. I’ll think of their dreams. I’ll think of their superpowers. And I’ll wish with all my heart that they know they’re not alone.
Ave Migratoria 