January 2026 will mark ten years since I first arrived in London with just one suitcase in hand. Back then, I had a simple goal: to start anew. The life I was leading in my home country felt stagnant, so I chose to build a different one elsewhere.

When deciding where to go, two countries came to mind — Germany and the UK. I had lived in both before and spoke both languages, which I thought would ease the transition. Although culturally and historically, my homeland is closer to Germany, I ended up buying a ticket to the UK.

Fast forward ten years, and London is no longer just where I live — it's became my home. On the surface, my life is quite ordinary. Work-eat-sleep-create-repeat. But look closer, and it's anything but. Beneath the surface lies a journey anything but ordinary. A journey with a shaky start that quickly unraveled in unexpected and unforgettable ways.

First came Brexit. Just six months after I landed, the British voted to leave the EU, reclaiming their blue passports and a sense of the past. Out with the Europeans, in with the rest of the world. Curious to see how things would unfold, I decided to hold tight and stay.

Then, three years later, I earned my postgraduate degree and the right to call myself a Master of Science [in Digital Marketing Management]. The ink on my diploma had barely dried when the global pandemic struck. Borders closed, and at the same time, my mother fell ill. She passed away six months later, just as the borders reopened and travel was possible again.

Suddenly, the family I thought I had back home was gone. Every family, I suppose, has someone they are more than willing to send away. In mine, that someone happened to be me. While I was taking leaps and moving forward over here, back “home” I became the one left behind. Unwanted, unclaimed. You see, blood isn't always thicker than water. More often than not, family isn’t the one you’re born into; it’s the one you build.

So I claimed my Settled Status at the first opportunity, and started building - new experiences, new life, new me. Brick by brick, stone by stone. Carving the future of my dreams onto the dark canvas of the virtual world. Planting seeds, uncertain whether I’ll live to see the harvest. Morbid? Perhaps. But it’s the reality that truly hits home once you cross the big five‑oh.

At twenty, you believe you have all the time in the world. At fifty, you know you don’t. One way or another, you’re heading toward your final destination. Transitioning from the familiar into the unknown. Whether that unknown is another country or another realm, you arrive stripped bare, starting over, building anew.

Cheers to that.