The days of my life.

"True life is lived when tiny changes occur." (Leo Tolstoy)

Since Monday, I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching. And I must admit - I haven’t yet reached the bottom of it. Not just my soul, but everything affecting it.

At the moment, I find myself thinking too much. So much so that my mind refuses to shut down at night, leaving me staring at the ceiling, chasing sleep that never comes. And we all know what happens then - the next day you feel like you are walking in your sleep.

For the past nine years, I wrote daily on Facebook. My few hundred loyal readers would feel cheated if they had to go to bed without a story from me. Not that it happened often - I love writing, and if I could do it all day, I would.

They followed my journey for four years in Ireland, where the beauty of the land inspired me and the history fueled my storytelling. Through my words, they traveled with me. They saw what I saw. Heard what I heard. Felt the heartbeat of that emerald island. I wove history and magic into my stories, and in turn, my readers stuck to me like ivy on an old stone wall.

But life changes. Circumstances shift. People move on.

After Ireland, my world was upended - two years in South Africa, waiting on my visa, and now, nearly a year into my new life in America. Everything feels different. Gone are the days of hopping into my car, finding somewhere interesting, chatting with strangers, and coming home to write about it.

Here in America? I haven’t been anywhere of interest once.

Texas is vast, and Flower Mound, with its 84,000 residents, is far from the charming small towns I adore. It’s a sprawl of roads and concrete, endless shopping centers, and uninspiring buildings. Yes, there are parks and trails, but my soul aches for places of beauty and significance.

I stopped writing on Facebook because, well - not everyone in my homeland shared my views. Many think Trump is a hero. I don’t.

Now, I write on Substack. I want to reach a wider audience - people whose minds want to hear the truth, who can handle the truth, and who see this whole administration for what it is. A disgrace.

I still write about life and its deeper meaning, but now, only for my paid subscribers - those who genuinely want to connect, who support me not just in spirit, but financially too.

Once upon a time, I had the luxury of writing piece after piece for free. Those days are gone. I need to make a living, and I choose to do it through something I love. And I want to say what I think and feel without tiptoeing around how it might upset someone.

I can only write, and I will only write what is true for me. My words will always reflect who I am.

I dream of reaching readers far and wide. They say, “Seek knowledge relentlessly, and success will follow.” That’s exactly what I intend to do.

Right now, I’m diving deep into American history - not just because I love history, but because I want to understand the soul of this nation. I wasn’t born here, so I have no deep emotional connection to it. But then again, I never felt truly connected to South Africa either. Ireland, though - that was different.

Still, I live here now. This country is part of my story. And what happens here happens to me too - if not physically, then mentally and emotionally. To ignore that in my writing would be a betrayal of self.

If that makes someone uncomfortable, they are always free to unsubscribe. No hard feelings - it would probably be best for both of us.

For me, the foundation of life is freedom. The purpose of life is joy. And the result of life is growth.

And I never want to stop growing. Even when it hurts.