Whatever you do, don’t call me the “N” word.

It’s not something I’m fond of, and perhaps it’s worth exploring why. My fingers are reluctant to type this article, but I am drawn to courage. So, as promised in this newsletter, I will do what needs to be done.

For years, people have asked me why I don’t write, and I think the more appropriate question is: “What are you afraid to FEEL?” We get to different places in our heart when we write.

In moments like this — like right NOW — I am reminded why I hadn’t. Long-form writing often forces us to confront uncomfortable truths.

I’ve never found the bravery to lay myself bare AND grab my pen or laptop to share while I’m still bleeding. But here we are.

It’s easy to write about the “good” stuff. We live in a culture that encourages us to share partial truths.

To share romantic tales of whisking off to foreign countries for ‘love’, without revealing the heartache of couples unwilling to sustain it. We often avoid discussing the disappointment and grief that arises when a partnership fails to create the home—both with the person and the physical space—you had imagined.

In truth, I wasn’t prepared to leave Mexico City and I hadn’t planned to leave my relationship.

More importantly, my decision to leave reflected a deeper core value I hold: When you love yourself, you surround yourself with people who love you too.

After wrestling with reality, no matter how heartbreaking it may be, I can listen to my needs and honor them. I am learning to trust my experience.

Moving to another country while in a partnership is a trust fall, and sometimes you won’t feel caught. I’ve done a LOT of brave things in my life, but this experience opened new dimensions within me as a woman.

Not everyone is willing to share their heart openly, this experience has shown me that I am a person willing and capable to do just that without any assurance it will “work out”.

It’s impossible not to think of those navigating gut-wrenching transitions, those who wake up uncertain of where they will sleep that night. It’s impossible not to consider the friends, community, and family who remind you how special you truly are.

I packed my life into a suitcase and opted for some fresh air.

I don’t like the “N” word.

According to the dictionary, a NOMAD is “a member of a people having no permanent abode, who travel from place to place to find fresh pasture for their livestock.” It can also mean “a person who does not stay long in the same place; a wanderer.”

There’s something about this idea that doesn’t sit well with me. Perhaps it’s the implication that such a person can easily detach, remaining fluid without any sense of responsibility or commitment.

Cognitively, I understand that everything we feel is connected to the stories we tell ourselves. These stories shape our identity, values, behaviors, relationships, and ultimately who we choose to BE.

I recognize that I can change the narrative, but for now, the ‘n’ word brings me palpable grief.

As a self-identified builder and creator, I take great satisfaction in deep, intentional investment.

Open? Yes. Curious? Yes. Explorative? Yes. Flexible? Yes. Committed? Yes. Devoted? Yes. Aimless and without purpose, not so much.

Maybe I resist the idea that a “nomad” is like a gust of wind, lacking deep roots. Touch-and-go, without the unwavering vulnerability required to be purposeful for extended periods of time.

Perhaps it’s because I have parents who fell in love and nurtured their marriage EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Maybe I resist the idea that a “nomad” is like a gust of wind, lacking deep roots. Touch-and-go, without the unwavering vulnerability required to be purposeful for extended periods of time.

Perhaps it’s because I have parents who fell in love and nurtured their marriage EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Maybe it’s my experience as a former Division I athlete, understanding the dedication it takes to commit to a team repeatedly.

Spending countless hours in hospitals, watching people in their final months, weeks, and days with dying loved ones, realizing that certain things can only be fully expressed once we devote ourselves wholeheartedly.

OR Perhaps it's the very invitation that I need. No goal, no objective, no specific result or purpose, just existence. Everything in life needs space + time to reveal its fullness.

For now, I’m getting fresh air in nature in the Pacific Northwest. I will spend time in Los Angeles, Mexico City,  Europe, and wherever else Source leads me.

Most of my belongings are in a suitcase, but I’m still unpacking my heart.

Wherever you are in your travels—life, love—I hope you feel seen, heard, loved, and understood. I hope that your perspectives, partnerships, places, and purpose are protected and able to just be experienced.

Life is not easy, but we will make the most of our lessons together because I never want to feel like I can’t share with you the intricacies of the romantic fairytale, which is still unraveling.

Here is to living, relocating and fully embracing the unknown while in our courage.

So for now, to close out our promise, “ I told you so……”

All Things,

MG