23/08/2026
This came in my Facebook memory today. And I just wanted to share.
To those who wondered about my silence. My disappearance. I hope this explain everything.
FRIDAY 22nd AUGUST 2025
SANAHIN
ST. SARGIS CHAPEL
FRIDAY 22nd AUGUST 2025
This morning, I set out on a hike before the world was fully awake. climbed a mountain trail. The air was cool, the hills still wrapped in shadows, and the path wound its way upwards until I reached a cross standing tall on the mountain, standing against the sky, the sun just beginning to rise, and clouds scattered like brushstrokes across the blue, in silver and gold. A bench was waiting there, perfectly placed for anyone who wanted to pause, and I take in the sunrise . So I sat, letting the beauty wash over me and breathed in the view, and the crisp air, and let the silence and stillness settle over me.
It was breathtaking and peaceful. And then,unexpectedly, the past found me. It just crept in.
I can’t believe a little over a year ago, my life fell apart. My life changed in a way I never expected.The betrayal was devastating, it cut deeper than the loss, deeper than words can describe. I was blindsided. Broken. In that moment , my world shattered. A wound so deep, it shattered the life I thought I had. And in the darkness that followed , I tried twice to end my own. Twice, I survived.
But surviving wasn’t enough, I needed to find a way to truly live again. I needed to heal, to breathe again. To learn who I was now I’m alone. For the past five months, I’ve been travelling across Europe, carrying not just a backpack but a new chapter of my life. Travelling seeking freedom, healing, and connection. From the ancient pathways of the Camino de Santiago to tucked-away villages in the mountains, each step has been part of a larger journey, not just through landscapes, but through myself.
I walked the Camino alone, not once, but twice. I walked from Porto to Santiago de Compostela 384 kms in 18 Days. And then from StJean Pied de Port to Santiago 987 kms 38 days!! All alone with just a small backpack weighing less than 5 kg. Each step teaching me that pain does not last forever. That broken hearts can beat strongly again. I walked until my grief had room to breathe, until my pain had space to shift, until I could see the horizon again. I walked on dusty roads and quiet villages , I began to piece myself back together. And somewhere along those stretches of road , through sunsets and sunrises , and the kindness of strangers , step by step, I found myself again. I am healed. I know I am. The Camino taught me that healing isn’t about forgetting, but about carrying the past differently, lighter, softer, with more compassion for myself.
My travels have taken me to new countries, new languages, new faces, new cities, new people, new horizons. This is my way of choosing life. They’ve all reminded me that not every ending is a tragedy. Every sunrise and every cobblestone street has been a reminder that not every ending is really an ending. Sometimes loss opens the door to freedom. In losing, I gained myself.
From betrayal to freedom, I claim this journey as mine. I found freedom in betrayal, I found resilience in kickbacks, in grief, I found my own strength.
Not every loss is really a loss. Sometimes it’s an invitation to live differently, more honestly, more fully. Sometimes it’s the beginning of freedom. Sometimes it’s a gift in disguise. Some are hidden beginnings. And this journey, the road , the mountains,the skies, is mine.
This morning, sitting by that cross, as the sun rose over the valley and the sky blazed with light, and the memories came back, it was not to pull me down, but to remind me, the past will always be a part of my story. The act of betrayal, the shadow of what happened, it cannot be erased. Not because I haven’t healed but because the past does not vanish. It lingers like an old scar.
But it also cannot define or control me anymore. I was reminded of something important, healing doesn’t mean erasing. It means living fully despite it. Scars don’t define me, they remind me I survived. The memories will always exist. I have moved on. I have rebuilt joy. Healing does not mean forgetting. Every sunrise is proof that healing is real.
So I sat with it. I let the sadness come, and then I let the sun lift it away. I looked out at the mountains, the valleys, the homes scattered below, and I reminded myself, I am here. And I walk on, free and unafraid, lighter with every step. I am here. I am alive. I am free.
The past may knock on my door, but I no longer let it stay. From betrayal to freedom, I claim this journey as mine.
And so my journey continues, not just across borders, but into the heart of who I am becoming.
Now, when the past visits, and finding me on the mountain, or anywhere, it no longer chains me. I treat it with resilience. It reminds me how far I’ve come. The betrayal hurt deeply, but it also gave me freedom, the freedom to travel, to breathe, to sit on a mountainside in the morning light and marvel at being alive.
I am moving forward, and I let my healing go through my travels and the beautiful landscapes and people I meet.
