July — Unemployed, Undeterred, Unapologetic.

On making time count and piecing together a mosaic of memories. I chose to take my children on a sun-drenched escape. For me, it became a love letter to motherhood—and an ode to gratitude.

I know I’m not the only one who has become acutely aware of the passing of time. Once I turned 50—and even earlier than that—I felt a strong compulsion to make every moment count. Not just to experience life anew, but to absorb the energy of each minute, hour, and day. I became not only conscious of how I spent my time, but also conscientious about spending the rest of it on this earth with meaning.

I prioritized getting out of Sweden and into fuller living: meeting my needs for sun and sea, culture and conversation, warmth and wonder. Time spent traveling—instead of taking up a hobby—became my primary mode of surviving the consistently cold climate and the emotional chill of living anonymously in Stockholm. If I lived elsewhere, perhaps I wouldn’t need it so much.

Travel helped me live more fully—yes. But it also became a kind of cure-all: an escape from the weight of a Swedish culture that didn’t reflect my values of connection, inclusivity, and friendliness; a protest against functional Scandinavian design in beige and grey; a break from the disappointment of substandard produce and the limited selection of goods all around.

Traveling was pricey, but an investment—one that paid dividends I never regretted.