*Trigger warning: this email contains vague political references and at least one Portuguese pastry. If you find such things incendiary, please do not read on.
Today I got on a zoom call with a woman who teaches Portuguese to foreigners living in Portugal.
There was no pricing information on her website, only a button to book a call to “see if you qualify,” which usually means, “Prepare yourself for sticker shock.”
The lady asked me a bunch of qualifying and rapport-building questions, scribbling notes instead of actually listening. Then she asked:
“How did you come to Portugal?”
Now every time someone asks this question, I pause to see how I answer it this time. For some reason, I said:
“You could simplify it down to this: I moved to Portugal for a man.”
(This admittedly, is my partner’s favorite version of the story. I internet stalked him and “chased” him to Europe.)
The language professor smiled:
“What man? Trump?”
At this point she earned bonus points for having a sense of humor.
No, it was not the President of the United States who drove me to Europe.
Though there’s something mildly uncomfortable about reducing my life to the trope of a middle-aged woman following a man across the ocean in her own personal Eat, Pray, Love fairytale.
And yet, it’s not untrue.
Without Olly, it’s doubtful I’d be living a few minutes from the beach in southern Portugal. I wouldn’t have stumbled into a cabal of pole dance friends and a international remote workers.
And I definitely wouldn’t be contemplating whether to spend thousands of euros learning Portugese grammar.
My favorite version of the story goes a little differently:
Back in 2022, I started seriously exploring the spiritual question posed by the saints and sages for eons:
What if what I’m really looking for is already within me?
And while I was looking, I saw something that radically shifted the trajectory of my life.
At the time I was comfortably living in St. Petersburg, Florida with my boyfriend. And suddenly, I felt this new, clear direction.
Portugal. A live event there called The Gathering of the Tribes. And this new guy I’d just met online named Olly.
I had a strong sense that when I went to Portugal, I’d be invited to stay, and I’d say yes.
So did I move to Portugal for a man?
Maybe. But more truthfully…
I moved because something inside me knew there was a life waiting that I couldn’t yet see.
Sometimes after hearing my story, people will ask, “So, was it a good decision?”
And I’m not quite sure how to answer that.
Immigrating to Portugal turned my life upside down in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.
It revealed the entitled American bubble I’d been living in, and exposed all my raging insecurities. It screwed up my business and messed with my identity.
It wasn’t all Mediterranean sunshine and pastel de nata.
But following those inner nudges always takes me exactly where I didn’t know I needed to go. ✨️
What about you?
What’s a nudge you’ve followed that changed your life in unexpected ways? Big or small, I’d love to hear your story. (And I respond to comments.)
Yours in love and play,
Steph 🐲❤️
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