So, what's about this blog and me writing in it?
I think a bit of background may be necessary.
Without going too much into details, I never felt fitting. Ever.
I've always felt like, for some reason, I didn't belong.
I don't intend to give away a sense of tragedy; I've lead a very happy life and I've been truly lucky, in every possible way. No reasons to complain, indeed. But. Like any of these actually make you happy.
I love to travel, I always did. See new places, meet new people (no, let's not joke: I am terribly awkward at actually meeting people. It's more like "staring in silence and see how they behave". You get the gist). I've always imagined to be somewhere else. Somewhere people didn't know me, where they didn't compare me, where I could be someone different - because, clearly, who I am ain't any good.
I even had the chance to do so - maybe one day I'll talk about it. I've lived abroad and in different cities.
Do people actually consider how many chances are they given to start from scratch?
We may actually not realize it, but everytime you go to a different place - say a new school, or a new place on holiday, even a new hangout by night. Every person we meet, even by chance, on the street. We have the possibility to be someone different. Someone nicer, someone bolder, someone braver. Anyone. Do we actually take this chance? Of course now. Which is a pity, given how much we complain to be restrained and not free. Anyway, I did the same; so I really shouldn't preach.
But this time, I changed.
I don't even know what happened to me. I am actually realizing now that there's been a change!
You know how sometime you need to see yourself through someone else's eyes and blah blah blah?
A couple of friends came to visit me in my new home abroad; and they were a bit ... surprised to see what they'd found! I always look the same, maybe lost a bit of weight; still the same defects and possibly merits but I'm different. So different.
It's like I'm shining through.
And I see this! I know! And I am so proud of myself.
Sometimes it's even frustrating, when people (new "friends" and so) tell me "...but you're not shy!!"
Honey, believe me, I am. I am also working my ass off to actually starting interacting with others; but thank you.
I also don't give a f*ck anymore. That's also incredibly liberating! It's not like I've stopped caring - I will always care, way too much, for people that don't deserve it. But I'm also starting to see that, and letting go.
Moving was the best decision I ever took in my life.
There was nothing in Italy for me anyway, and packing my bags and leaving behind old clothes and fripperies that I didn't need, I also left anguish and remorse and guilt. And relations that didn't give me anything anymore, that didn't deserve the title of friendship, where I spent half of the time pretending anyway.
Hella, moving to the other side of Europe really show you the ones that care - that actually make the effort to keep in touch. (Turns out, not that many)
Living in Stockholm...
I don't want to be cheesy, it's like the puzzle piece that never fit, and now it's finally in place.
Of course not everything here is perfect, of course not everything works (although, a surprising amount actually does), of course you'll get tears, and sadness, and days where nothing goes right and everything goes wrong. It's not Shangrila. No place is! (And thankfully, do you have any idea of how boring would that be?!)
But - basically, the good things here are just so much better.
As I said, I've been lucky. I am lucky. I get the greatest pleasures from the smallest things. They actually do mean a lot to me.
The colour of the sky.
The feel of the spring grass under your feet.
The touch of the sun on your cheek, of the rain on your brow.
The smell of wet earth after it rained (turns out, this actually had a word: petrichor. The English language sometimes is really surprising). Well, the petrichor in Sweden is all particular and perfect. It's actually one of my favourite smells, and it's amazing. That alone could have been for me reason enough to move here. It's wet, and rich, feels like moss and bark and underwood and I love it. It makes you want to kick off your shoes and just wander in the forest. Until you step on a pine cone and bitterly regret your decision, which is why being spontaneous is good; but carefully plan is better.
So, there you have it. The smell after the rain here is delicious; and it's good, because it rains a lot. That is, in a nutshell, why I moved here. That, and strawberry cider; which I can hardly ever get enough of, I love that stuff.
Here even the smallest things make me happy; and there's tons of little things that I love, which translates in pretty much a ton of happiness.
And I am finally trying to get drunk (turns out, not that easy: my resilience for alchool is surprising. I clearly need to apply more).