Mediterranean freedom

July 21st – Somewhere between sea salt and sunlight.

After a week of writing about shadows and inner heaviness, I found myself yearning for something lighter. Something sun-kissed. Something that reminds me of warmth and rest.

Lately, I've been missing Greece. I didn't expect to fall in love with a tourist hotspot. But I did. Not because it was beautiful — though it was. Not because it was perfect — because it wasn't. But because, for the first time in a long time, I felt free.

We didn't do anything extraordinary. We weren't in a hidden gem off the beaten path. Just a familiar Mediterranean coast with whitewashed walls, olive groves, and the kind of heat that makes you slow down.

And I did. I slowed down.

I wandered in a soft linen dress. Ate olives that tasted like sunshine. Watched the sun melt into the sea every evening. And something inside me softened. Something that had been tense for too long.

Maybe it wasn't all Greece. Maybe it was freedom.

Because now that I'm back home, I keep wondering: was it the place that changed me, or the permission I gave myself to stop rushing? To sleep in. To taste my food. To not answer emails. To just exist.

We often think we need to escape somewhere far to feel alive again. But what if it's not about the coordinates? What if it's about how we let ourselves live?

And don't get me wrong, I love the place where we live now. I cherish the lake view I get to see every morning with my coffee. I get to walk with my favorite boy through forest trails and by quiet waters. I get to breathe in the scent of pine needles and just be still.

Still... I do miss the olives. The light. The version of me who moved slowly and smiled easily.

I dream sometimes of living by the sea. Maybe in a little white house with blue shutters, where laundry never really dries and everything smells like salt and rosemary. But maybe what I'm really dreaming of is a life with more room to breathe.

Maybe the life I want isn't somewhere else. Maybe it just begins with less pressure, more presence.

And yet... A part of me still longs for the Mediterranean sun.

I learned that even freedom feels softer when your heart is whole, and part of mine was waiting back home. 🐾

Have you ever felt this way too? Is there a place your soul keeps returning to, again and again? A place where you feel free, soft, and fully yourself?

I'd love to hear about it in the comments, if you feel like sharing. And for more sun-kissed reflections, slow living, and deeper thoughts, join me over on Instagram @selflavie. 🌞

Soft hugs,
Selflavie