Roaming Towards Myself

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

In 10 years, I hope I’m living a life that right now still feels a little bit like a dream.

I’d love to have my own successful little two-room bed and breakfast, somewhere beautiful, full of character, warmth, and the kind of charm people remember long after they leave. I can picture it so clearly. Slow mornings with coffee, quiet before the day begins, fresh air coming through the windows, and a life that feels calm instead of rushed.

I hope my dogs are still with me, especially Fern, who will be 11 by then. Just the thought of us still being together, sharing that life, makes me happy. I’d like to think by then my French is good enough that I can really live in it, not just survive with it. Enough to belong. Enough to build a real life there.

And because life is absurd and dreams are free, I also hope I’ve met a lovely hot French man on French Tinder and that we’re completely madly in love. Bonus points if he happens to own a château or a castle. I’m not here to dream small.

Mostly, though, I hope I’ve created the life I keep imagining for myself. A life with slow coffee mornings, a fruit and vegetable garden, masses of hydrangeas and tulips, and an armchair by the fireplace where I read every day. A life where I blog daily, write daily, and have written not just one book, but several.

More than anything, in 10 years I hope I feel what so many people spend their whole lives chasing. Contentment. Peace. The deep kind that comes from knowing you were brave enough to build the life you truly wanted.