I was born and raised in a city.
Apartment life.
Travelling by car, bus, or underground.

DIY? Not needed. Not taught. Not missed.

As a child and teen, I danced—a lot. Movement meant ballet: the perfect arabesque, the beautiful performance.
Later, walking and cycling slowly replaced the car. But still, movement belonged in a studio, with mirrors and music.

Then I became a mother.
And movement began to shift.
It became curiosity. Connection.
And sometimes fear—Can I even do this?

After 16 years in London, we felt a tug.
A whisper of change.
Evenings filled with questions:
What do we value most?
What fills us up?

Our answers were simple:
Family.
Friends.
Movement—in nature.
Good books.
Good music.

And so, we moved.
To the middle of nowhere.
An ancient farmhouse with a leaky roof and endless to-do lists.
We’re still not DIY people—we have no clue what we’re doing!
But we dream big.

Now, when I need a break, I climb a tree and forage cherries.
I walk the path that begins just outside our front door.
I watch the mountains and listen to owls in the night.
And fireflies—so many fireflies.

Do I miss the city?
Yes, sometimes.
I need a dose of buzz now and then, and I miss London dearly.

But right now, I adore my work breaks in the cherry tree.

Can I blame motherhood for this change?
Yes—in the best way.

Motherhood reshaped our priorities.
It nudged us toward a different kind of movement.
(Not that I’ve given up ballet—I still love it!)

But this slower, more rooted kind of moving…
I see the benefits in each of us, all five of us.
Nature holds something precious.

So if this is what motherhood brought me—
Then thank you, Motherhood. 🍃

What will happen in 20 years?
Maybe we’ll return to a big city.
Maybe we’ll go even deeper into the woods.

I don’t know.
And for now—I don’t need to.