Stories of my life
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I am More Than a Place on the Map
It usually comes early. Not hello early, but close enough to make you suspicious: “Where are you from?” There it is. The question every immigrant knows, recognizes, and, depending on the day, either answers politely or mentally files under emotional rollercoaster I did not sign up for. When I first moved abroad, I didn’t mind…
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Perimenopause & the Art of Forgetting Everything
It’s Sunday morning. That sacred illusion of calm. I’ve done it all, breakfast prepared, the cat fed, the dog fed, and finally… finally… I made myself a proper cup of coffee. Not just any coffee. The coffee. The one I’ve been craving since Friday evening like a woman stranded in the desert fantasising about espresso instead of…