Notes from a Wandering Woman — In a learning process
This is a collection of nomadic notes, poetic reflections, and soul-crafted offerings gathered across borders, cultures, and seasons of becoming.
It is where letters bloom like wildflowers, and quiet thoughts are shared with mint tea under the stars, a lost corner where womanhood meets wildness.
What you’ll find here is more than stories — it’s lived experience turned into art.
It’s poetry made from pieces I once thought were broken.
It’s the captivating scent of orange blossoms , the ink spilled under the moon petals pressed into fabric like memories, and a Garden tended like sacred ground.
This is where I write about the journey back to my self-worth.
About the art of choosing myself — not just once, but every single day.
About what it means to be a woman in all her softness, strength, wildness, and wisdom.
You’re welcome to walk this path with me.
To sit with the reflections, the rituals, the beauty, the mess — all of it.
Because I believe that healing doesn’t have to be lonely.
It can be a shared bloom. A story told. A seed planted.
So take a breath, pour some tea, and feel your way in.
You’re invited to rest here. To remember. To feel.
— exactly as you are.
