Hello darlings! Apologies for my absence.
So it happened. I left Melbourne and moved back to the UK a few weeks ago. I’ve been a bit of a nomad for the past few years but I can safely say this: leaving Melbourne was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
I’m lucky to have incredible friends who helped me pack up my beloved flat. As I sat on the floor of my empty living room, I still thought I’d be fine. I was serving casual moving-out realness like so:
And then it hit me and I was like OH LAWD WHAT HAVE I DONE.
(I was going to insert a picture of my ugly cry <here> but I can’t do that to you nice people)
Was it scary to uproot myself after getting so comfortable? Yes. Am I worried I may have made a mistake? Maybe. But like my dad always says, life is not a straight line.
A lot can happen in two years… let’s effing do this innit?