Packing Up Dreams Is Heavier Than Packing a Suitcase

I dread packing.

I’ve lived out of backpacks, dragged suitcases across oceans — and somehow, it never gets easier.

I can pack a carry-on like a pro. That part I’ve mastered.

But the rest? It always feels messier.

Maybe that’s because life feels messy right now.

Louder. Heavier.

Like I’m still untangling a dream I carried so carefully, one that didn’t unfold the way I imagined.

There’s grief in that.

Not just in what was lost, but in the quiet realization that I have to redream it all.

Redefine what the future looks like.

Ask myself again: What do I really want now?

And the truth is — any road I choose from here will take work.

None of it will come easy.

But I’ve never been someone who stays still.

I move with my gut. I chase what makes me feel most alive.

Sometimes that looks like a slow morning with coffee in my hands on a beautiful patio.

Sometimes it’s a one-way ticket to someplace unknown.

But the common thread is this: I choose it.

Fully. Fiercely. For me.

Even when I don’t know what comes next, I know this:

I’ve built a life that keeps evolving.

And I’m learning to be grateful even in the quiet, even in the undone parts.

Even when it hurts.

Because no matter how heavy the suitcase or the dreams packed inside it,

I still have the courage to carry them.