A Quiet Evening in Milan

Milano, love, and the courage to move again

A quiet evening in Milan.

I am already in bed.
A relaxing tea on my bedside table.
Italian music playing softly in the background.

Candles.
Soft light.
The balcony door open — just enough to let the spring air come in.

And me, sitting inside all of this,
feeling… alive.

Deeply alive.

And content.

A feeling I don’t want to question too much,
but I still do.

Because I’m trying to understand it.

I wasn’t numb before.
I wasn’t disconnected.

But everything feels more now.

I see colors differently.
I watch the sky and I smile — for no reason.
I hear music and I think it’s the most beautiful thing that exists.

I wake up and I’m happy that I get to be here.
To feel.
To love.

My anxiety is gone.
My sleep is deep.
It’s 22:00 and I’m ready to sleep.

But I want to say some words first.

I want to let myself be free here.
To empty what has been building inside.

I am in love with life. 

With this city.

I always have been — even when things felt grey.

But now it’s different.

It’s not just finding happiness in small things.
It’s that everything feels like it’s working together.

Like all the small things aligned.

And I know I didn’t arrive here by accident.

I worked for this.

I worked to regulate my habits.
To protect my freedom.
To allow myself to become.

To love myself — more than anything.

And now I’m here.

And I almost can’t believe it.

I have one more month of living in Milano.

And I want to live it fully.

I take myself to museums every second day.
To parties.
To exhibitions.
To vintage markets.
To dinners that turn into long nights.

Bike rides that feel like small movies.

I have been in love with this city since 2017.
And somehow, it keeps growing.

And even if I am leaving —
I already know I will come back.

This is home now.
In a way that doesn’t go away.

And yet — what comes next is… chaos.

A beautiful one.
A terrifying one.

For the next months,
I will not have a home.

I will be everywhere.
But nowhere fixed.

And I have never done this before.

I always had a place to return to.

This time, I don’t.

And yes — it scares me.

But it also excites me in a way I cannot ignore.

Pushing my limits has always been one of my favorite games.

And every time I thought I couldn’t..
and I did
something in me expanded.

So I want to see again.

What happens if I let go a bit more.

We are so many people in one life.

And even if I love who I am right now —
this version of me, with my Milano apartment,
my routines, my bike,
fresh designer out of Polimi —

I still ask myself:

What else can I become?

So I pack my bags again.

And I go.

Guided by the sun.
By music.
By the simple joy of being alive.

When I left Copenhagen —
my home with the terrace, the two dogs,
and the blue-eyed fiancé —

I thought I already had everything.

And I left with a heavy heart.

But then Milano happened.

Slowly, it became home.
And then more than that.

And yes, the transition was hard.

All transitions are.

But if you give yourself time,
patience,
and trust —

you don’t just survive them.

You become more.

And just when I was about to leave again,
life gave me something unexpected.

Two people.

Two beautiful, chaotic humans
who entered my space
and slowly became part of my home.

The energy changed completely.

It feels like living with people who just… get you.

Last night we had a spontaneous aperitivo.
On a Tuesday.

Rapping Eminem on the balcony until morning.

I laughed so much my stomach hurt.
I spoke so much Italian my hands hurt.

So why not, life?

Why give me something so beautiful
just when I am about to leave?

And still — I take it.

Fully.

These two years here —
they were a dream.

But they were also busy.
So full.

University.
Work.
Travel.

And now, finally, I get to breathe.

To actually see my life here.

To live Milano as I always wanted to.

Slowly.

Coffee near the Duomo.
An exhibition in the afternoon.
Getting lost in an old library.

Lunch in a small osteria.
A little nap.

A beautiful dinner.
A theatre ticket.

Basta.

Felice.

Sempre.

I am in love.

With life.

In a way I have never felt before.

It feels almost too much sometimes.
Like a quiet euphoria.

And I hope it’s contagious.

I have enough of it for everyone.

But yes.

My Milano home.

I am continuing.

Berlin next.

New chapter.
New experiences.
New depths.

For the next months, I will be…
a bit like a leaf in the wind.

At the kindness of people.
Of cities.
Of places that will host me.

It has been a long journey.

And now another one begins.

More demanding.

But from a different place inside me.

If I can trust that —
if I can stay open —

then nothing can really stop me.

The point is simple.

Trust that you can.

Then do the work.

I did the work.

And now I want to hold myself gently.

To care for myself with big, unapologetic dreams.

Morning coffees in different cities.
Love in different languages.
Writing my life as I live it.

Staying true to myself.

Expanding.

Opening.

Flying as high as I can.

I am in love.

Con tutti.