I had a lot of conversations — with friends, family, clients, even strangers — about me leaving, the first time around.

The most asked questions were always the same:
Why?
Are you running from something?
Why would you want to leave your hometown — your home country?
Why give up a secure job, a social life, and everything that seems so wonderful?

I didn’t know the answer back then.
Or maybe I did — but I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, so I stayed silent.
But I think I‘m closer to it now.

Yes, at first, I ran away — so to speak.
I ran from my surroundings: the people, the places, the memories.

I needed distance to find myself. The real me.
Under the constant pressure to please everyone back home, I’d completely lost sight of what I actually wanted from life.

Where I wanted to go.
Who I wanted to be with.
What I wanted to create.

(Mind you — the pressure to please everyone? That came from me.
I set those standards.
I was the people pleaser, because I believed I had to be.
I’m just learning now how to be a me-pleaser.)

And in that distance, I realized something:
I was never made for the traditional life.

In the wide open world, I found myself.
And in that same wide open world, I learned to love myself — for who I really am.

And when I came back home, I noticed something else:
I fit in even less than I did before.
In some strange way, I had outgrown this place.

But at least this time, I was more confident in my own skin.
I didn’t feel the need to prove my worth.
I didn’t need to please anyone.
I had finally found the strength to stand up for myself — and hold my ground.

The sad truth, though?
It seems I need distance from my hometown and its surroundings in order to truly be myself — to be the best version of me.

Back there, I had let myself get completely run over by everything and everyone around me.
I wasn’t in the driver’s seat anymore.

(I let others influence me too quickly, too easily.
That’s why now, I truly value being alone — and having people around me who simply let me be me.)