I moved to Vancouver (and Canada) exactly seven years ago today!

This also marks the longest I’ve ever lived in one place in one stretch – I’ve lived in Vancouver longer than I’ve lived anywhere else.

In a way it feels like I’ve lived here forever.

I think that inherently I’m a nomad; I used to think that five years was a long time to stay in one place.

I don’t know anymore, sometimes it feels like I just arrived, it felt like I was on vacation for years. I’m not sure when that changed.

The first year was a bit of a blur, I was a little unsure of myself – there were so many things that I wanted to do and so many other things I wanted to stop doing.

My friend K. who moved here around the same time as I, moved to Hong Kong last fall, I envy her a little, jealous of the her new beginning, the rush that comes with starting anew, especially when the one’s older, wiser and bolder.

I had a dream a couple of days ago, it’s a recurring one that I often have. I’m always preparing for a trip, going someplace I’d rather not be, the circumstances are always the same, I’m leaving behind loved ones, going out alone to a strange land where I don’t speak the language.

It’s always heartbreaking and even in my dreams I find it overwhelming, it’s like my own personal nightmare.

It’s been seven years of great memories and discovery, this place allows me to be myself, or reinvent myself if need be – which is why I’ll probably be here for a little while more.