I didn’t set out to document a journey. I set out to survive a feeling.
The feeling was small at first, quiet, almost polite. A sense that my life had become too carefully arranged. Too explained. Too known. I wasn’t unhappy, exactly. But I was restless in a way that didn’t have a clear language yet.
So this is me giving it language.
Pages From Somewhere is not a travel blog in the traditional sense. There will be places, yes. Cities and cafés and long walks where no one knows my name. But this is not about tips or itineraries or how to pack light. It’s about what happens internally when you choose movement over certainty.
It’s about leaving, without leaving everything.
I am married. I am rooted. I am loved.
And still, something in me is asking for more space.
That sentence took me a long time to stop apologizing for.
For a while, I tried to make my restlessness practical. I told myself I just needed a break. A reset. A change of scenery. But the truth was messier and more interesting than that. I wanted to see who I was when life loosened its grip a little, when routines shifted and familiar expectations faded into the background.
I wanted to be unknown for a moment.
There’s a particular kind of fear that shows up when you follow a question without knowing the answer. It’s not dramatic fear. It’s subtle. It asks things like:
What will people think?
Is this selfish?
Do I even get to want this?
Those questions are the real landscape of this project.
This blog is a series of pages, not chapters, because nothing here is meant to feel finished. These are snapshots of becoming. Moments of doubt, clarity, loneliness, awe. Some pages will be written from hotel beds at midnight. Others from park benches or airport floors or places I didn’t plan to love.
Some pages may contradict each other. That’s allowed.
What I know now is this: movement changes the way fear behaves. It softens it. Shrinks it. Teaches you that bravery doesn’t always roar, sometimes it whispers, see what happens.
If you’re reading this because you’re curious, welcome.
If you’re reading this because something in you feels unfinished, you’re in the right place.
I’m not here to convince you to leave your life.
I’m here to explore what happens when you stop postponing yourself.
This is page one.
The rest will be written as I go.
