Friends, family, even neighbors—one by one, they all left. Some chased opportunities in other countries, others had to leave because of hardship. I told myself I’d stay. I tried to convince myself that love, work, and a future could still be found where I was.
But slowly, my world grew emptier. My brother moved away. My best friend started a new life overseas. Even the people I thought would never leave… they did. And in the quiet that was left behind, I realized I was just surviving, not living.
So I packed my bags and left too. It wasn’t easy. I had to let go of the streets I grew up on, the memories of raising my daughter there, and the home that held both laughter and pain. But I couldn’t ignore what my heart wanted anymore.
For years, I gave everything to holding my family together, to being strong, to carrying responsibilities on my own. I was the dependable one. The survivor. The mother who never let herself dream too much.
But now? Now I want more. Not just stability. Not just survival. I want love. The kind that makes you feel like you’re home, even when you’re far from where you began.
After everything I’ve lost, after all the goodbyes I’ve had to say—I’m finally ready for the one ‘hello’ that could change everything.
