Cleared out and ready to go!

2025 Has Begun—And How!

The first thing I did was quit working. Physically, at least. This is the year my life is going to change completely, and I’m taking quite a big risk. My job at the supermarket was physically demanding and sometimes downright exhausting on long days when you’d enter your workplace around 6:45 AM and leave the store around 5:10 PM.

In the last few weeks, I had been counting down the days until my final workday at that place where—if I’m being completely honest—I never really enjoyed working. Some days there were jokes and silly conversations, but I never felt passionate about the job or put my heart into it. Although I had many kind and friendly customers, I had grown tired of working in a large store and felt somewhat burned out. The fire that once burned restlessly inside me had completely faded, and I was no longer happy in my career. Time for a change!

Last year, I visited Asia for the first time in my life. My trip to Bali in May was something I was really looking forward to, with no specific expectations. It turned out to be a fantastic but also life-changing vacation, during which I also turned 40. During a spiritual cleansing, where I was freed from negative karma and received positive karma, something inside me shifted. It felt as if I started to shed my own skin and my soul was speaking to me, telling me that now was the time to search for my true calling.

That realization hit me shortly after the trip when I got sick and spent a few days in bed with a stomach flu. Then, it hit me like a bomb: I needed to approach the second half of my life differently than the first. But how? In the summer, I spoke with a career coach—two sessions, each lasting two hours. She asked targeted questions like: What are your passions? What are you good at? What are you not good at? These questions made me really think about who I truly am deep inside. Self-reflection had always intrigued me—philosophizing about life and how to live it. After one final visit to my psychologist, I was sure: I would move abroad again.

After that, I had some inspiring online conversations with women and even met someone in Breda who helps people turn their ideas into concrete plans for starting their own business. From defining a target audience to finalizing a product, we discussed everything, and my head was buzzing with ideas.

For months, I worked quietly on my theories, shifting from determination to doubt and back again through anxiety and overthinking. By the end of October, I was certain—I canceled my studio lease. “Oh no, now I actually have to leave within three months,” I thought. My plan was to leave in winter, but as a last resort, I could stay with friends or family for a few weeks. So, I started searching for a one-way ticket to the sun.

Knowing that postponing often leads to cancellation, I didn’t want to wait until March to leave Belgium—I didn't want to miss good weather. And I know myself: if I wait until March, I’ll end up waiting through the summer and until October or so. No, no—I had been thinking about this for too long. Then I noticed that tickets were more expensive in February than in January, so January it was. Perfect, I would leave in the same month I arrived four years ago.

I quit my job as soon as I found a ticket, and suddenly, time flew by. Out of my four weeks’ notice, I took a week and a day off and used up four extra days of overtime hours. It was amazing, but also necessary because I had to empty my apartment. It wasn’t that big, but you always accumulate more stuff than you think. Those were busy days, filled with cleaning and packing, and I’m grateful that some friends and family members offered to help. The day finally came when I had to hand in my keys to the real estate agency. After that, I thought I’d have a few quiet days before my departure.

But things turned out differently. I had several meetings with people who wanted to see me one last time, and vice versa. One final dinner with my best friend and his sons, and on the very last day before departure, I sold my scooter. That was a tough moment—it felt like I was selling my freedom. After shedding a few tears, I had to remind myself that I was exchanging it for another kind of freedom. So, with my mind switched off but a small ache in my heart, I left my beloved motorcycle with her new owner. I also said goodbye to my sister and nieces on the last evening. My only wish for the people I leave behind is that they always stay safe and look out for each other. But knowing them, they would support and help one another and always be there for each other. Just like my motorcycle would be in good hands. Now, as for myself—that was more uncertain. But I had, and still have, full confidence that this adventure is something I’m meant to experience for a reason. The path I’m taking is not the most obvious one, but that’s how I’ve lived my entire life. And I’ve faced some serious challenges before—this one can be added to the list. Still, wish me luck!

Photo: After my last shift at work, with a gift from a colleague.