Somewhere between unfamiliar streets and long train rides, something began to shift. If the earlier part of this journey was about listening, this was different. Europe didn’t give me a voice. It showed me I already had one.
The moments that stayed with me weren’t the landmarks, but the people. Conversations in bars, on trains, in passing. Brief, unplanned, but real. There was no pressure to be anything in particular. Just a willingness to connect.
I realised speaking isn’t about having something impressive to say. It’s about being present enough to say something honest. Even if it’s unfinished.