A Letter to Portugal

After a month of living in a cardboard palace and navigating the chaos of relocation, I finally have the time to reflect and attempt to organize my swirling thoughts into words. These past few months, my identity has been entirely entangled with the act of moving—the endless logistics, the packing and unpacking (both in the literal and metaphorical sense), the bittersweet farewells of the people and place I have grown to love over these last years and call home… This process has left me with a kaleidoscope of emotions: confusion, uncertainty, opportunity, and excitement.?

As I stand at the threshold of a new chapter in a new place, I feel like a puzzle that needs to be pieced back together. Who am I now? How do I want to be seen? What are my priorities? How will I reinvent myself and continue to evolve?        

It's pretty hard to sum up this chapter and all that it's meant to me in one blog post...but I will do my best! Before Portugal, I thought I had a clear sense of who I was—not just in a cultural or genealogical sense, but in my very essence as a person. I believed I understood myself completely. In hindsight, I realized I was wrong. My core values remained constant: an inherent sense of curiosity, a drive to all things social justice, and a motivation to build community and give back. But there were layers of myself I hadn’t yet uncovered. Moving to Portugal challenged me in ways I hadn’t anticipated and exposed truths about how some of my identity and aspirations had been shaped by societal constructs I’d previously overlooked.

I thought I knew Portugal too. My earlier travels, though meaningful, barely scratched the surface. When I moved there solo, na?ve, and (mostly) unafraid nearly seven years ago, I had no idea what lay ahead. My motivation to relocate stemmed from a desire to reconnect with my heritage, to learn a language that risked being lost within my family tree, and, in a paradoxical way, to experience discomfort. I wanted to glimpse a fraction of the hardship my grandparents faced when they emigrated from the Azores to Canada in the 1950s—a journey made without knowledge of the local language, money, work, or community. While my circumstances were far more privileged, the challenges I faced were profound. I was armed with a Portuguese passport but felt completely foreign in an unfamiliar world.

Over the last 6+ years, Portugal awakened a part of me that had been dormant, waiting for the right moment to emerge. It was there that I confronted my feelings of being “the other;” discovering and reconciling the dualities within me. The experience was transformative in ways I couldn’t have predicted.?

Living in Portugal was humbling. It was an experience shaped by finding strength in discomfort and vulnerability—learning to navigate a new culture, stumbling through conversations, and finding my place in a land that somehow felt both foreign and familiar at once. But it was also an experience full of resilience, adaptability, and openness. I learned so much about hospitality, unconditional love, and finding joy in the simple things. More than anything, Portugal taught me to slow down, to not have all the answers, to be present, and to truly connect—with people, with place, and with myself.

There were moments at the end of this chapter, though, when I felt like I hadn’t accomplished everything I set out to do. I’m not as fluent in Portuguese as I’d like to be. I didn’t explore every nook and cranny of the country, though I tried. But on a final trip to the Azores this September to visit family in my grandparent’s island, something clicked. As I reflected on my time there, I realize I had done exactly what I came to do—and more. I connected deeply with the people and the place where my family originates. It’s a connection that goes beyond words or language certifications. It’s in the way the ocean breeze felt like an affirming whisper from my ancestors, the way the land beneath my feet felt grounding, the way the food, the music, and the traditions stirred something emotional and intrinsic in me.

When in Portugal, at times I was often labeled as the Canadian - especially during those first years where there were far and few between North Americans living in Porto. The accent, the mannerisms, the way of thinking, all gave it away despite my many attempts to camouflage with the locals. But over time the moment I stepped outside of Portugal, something shifted—I felt more Portuguese than ever. This duality has become a cornerstone of how I see myself, and something I have become proud of. It’s a reflection of my journey: discovering, embracing, and honouring my Azorean roots.

There’s still so much to learn, so much to experience, but I’ve come to understand the essence of the Azores and Portugal overall and, in turn, a piece of myself. This will continue to be an ongoing exploration, no matter where I physically live. My Portuguese alma—my soul—has been found and ignited. It’s a fire that will forever burn within me, a reminder of where I come from, and a significant piece of my story. A place where I too found my passion for all things at the intersection of food, people, environment, and health. A place where I found my life partner. A place where I built friendships to last a lifetime.?And a place where I proved to myself that I could do whatever I set my mind to.

A wise friend I met during my time in Portugal recently told me, “You may not have a map, but you have a compass.” That resonated deeply. As I close a very meaningful chapter for new opportunities and growth and embark on this new adventure in the Netherlands, I carry the memories gained and the lessons Portugal taught me.?I am forever grateful for my time in Portugal and for all those a part of this chapter. The country gave me more than I ever imagined—about myself, my heritage, and my capacity to adapt. So, here I am, ready to embrace this new chapter. Let’s see what you have in store for me, Netherlands!

Ent?o, with that I say, "Até logo, Portugal". Thank you for everything. This may be the end of one chapter, but the story continues on...