Maps, Moments, and the Making of Me

This past month, I did something I had always dreamed of—I let myself wander.

I found myself hopping across countries I’d longed to see since I was little: the charming streets of France, the untouched beauty of Mongolia, the stillness of Swiss mountain mornings. I went not to escape, but to fufill a dream. And I didn’t wait for the “right time”—because the truth is, we never know how much time we really have. I could die tomorrow. So why not now?

Traveling this way felt different. Intentional. Sacred.

I didn’t take many photos—not because I forgot, but because I wanted this time to be mine. I wanted to be selfish in the best way possible: to keep the memory just for myself, tucked away like a secret I don’t need to prove. Sometimes joy doesn’t need to be documented. It just needs to be felt.

One night, I stayed in a hotel room that—strangely—felt like home. Not the home I’ve had, but the one I want to build. The furniture, the warmth of the light, the way the window framed the world outside—it gave me a vision of the safe space I hope to create for myself one day. And for the first time in five years I felt completely at peace. I had never slept so well and I had even immediately changed my travel plans to stay there longer. It reminded me that I'm allowed to build the life I imagine. It’s not a fantasy. It’s a blueprint.

Through these travels, I met people from all walks of life—especially older ones who, in many ways, were far younger in spirit than I expected. Some were artists, some were writers, some were just beautifully people. And I learned something quietly profound: age is such a strange thing. We wear it like armor or shame, when really, it should be a badge of becoming. Everyone is just trying to live a life that feels full. We are all still learning, still curious. And that’s what keeps us young.

What surprised me most was how similar we all are, no matter where we come from. Across countries, across cultures, what people want is simple: connection, comfort, peace, something to look forward to.

And maybe that’s what this chapter of my life is really about. Finding those simple things. Rebuilding a vision for my future. Meeting strangers who remind me who I am.

In August, I get to click "refresh." I’ll be moving not just back to the United States temporarily—but into a new country where my life entirely changes and one I had always been curious about. A new city. New faces. New purpose. Another blank page to fill with stories. I get to start at a program I never knew I could get into and immerse myself towards my future, a step towards my medical degree.

I don’t know what’s waiting for me next—but I do know that I am arriving more confident, more certain, and more curious than ever. I’ve learned that growth isn’t always loud or grand. Sometimes, it’s just a quiet whisper reminding you: this is where you’re meant to be.

So here’s to new beginnings. And to the courage to wander, again and again, until you find what feels like home.

Always with love,

Kaya