32 going 33
Apr’26
For a long time, I wanted to be somewhere else.
Not in a wanderlust way. I spent more than half my life counting down to a version of life that hadn’t arrived yet — willing time to move faster, hoping to be anywhere but here. I imagined countless versions of what that life could look like. Something normal, I thought, though I’m not sure I ever really knew what I was looking for.
When it finally came (unplanned), it felt less like arrival and more like release. I realised then that what I had been searching for wasn’t a place, but a sense of freedom. A bit of control over my own life. I was in my mid-twenties, but that version of me feels very far away from me now.
Looking back with a little more awareness, there are a few things I understand better now.
Home is something you make.
This took me longer than most. Maybe it’s something you only understand once you’ve had to build it on your own. I’m still learning not to take it for granted. The things I once wished for on countless nights can quietly fade into the background in a noisy world — the safe space I come back to, the person who gives me room to simply be, and a mind that feels a little more at peace.
Enough is a practice.
I’ve never been very good at being still. Even on weekends, even on holidays, some part of me is calculating: am I doing enough, making enough, becoming enough? I've been learning slowly, mostly through small things. Baking taught me that you can't rush the process, you can't be efficient about it. The dough rests when it needs to rest. I'm trying to let myself do the same. Somewhere along the way, I started thinking more about what “enough” actually means. What it looks like for me, and whether knowing it would change the way I live, a life lived not wastefully, but fully.
You don't need a map.
I used to need to know the destination before I could take the first step. Every trip planned, every move considered, every outcome overthought so nothing could catch me off guard. Somewhere in the last few years, that grip loosened. I’ve come to understand that things can still be okay, even without knowing. That the beauty is in the figuring out, in the process, not the destination. I like not knowing where I’m going. I like that there are still so many possibilities, and that each day gets to begin fresh. One thing I've been quietly looking forward to for the past year is a six months on the road with no real plan.
So here’s me gathering the pieces of my just enough.
