Back in the US, a fresh start and a new perspective

For a long time, I avoided responsibility—not in obvious ways, but in the small choices that kept me from moving forward. I never stayed in one place for too long, never committed to a long-term plan, and avoided anything that would force me to take real ownership of my life. But that mindset no longer serves me.

I want more for myself. I picture a home, a family, a sense of stability. And if I want those things, I have to step up. Less escapism, fewer distractions. More focus on my career, my well-being, and creating peace within myself—without relying on external factors to do it for me.

For a long time, I believed that settling down would come naturally when I found the right person. That a relationship would bring stability, a sense of home, and a reason to stay in one place. But I see now that it doesn’t work like that. If I want a solid partnership, I need to be solid on my own first. Otherwise, I’ll keep attracting situations that teach me lessons instead of giving me what I actually want.

Choosing peace doesn’t mean choosing boredom—it means choosing growth. It means recognizing the habits that have held me back: using alcohol and substances to manage anxiety, mistaking partying for real connection, and letting chaos disrupt my own sense of self-worth. I swear for years and years, I've just been making my life harder on purpose "for the plot." Now, I am committing to change, knowing that progress isn’t linear, and accepting that there will be setbacks along the way.

During my time in the Peace Corps, I had space to reflect. I kept a poster of Glacier Park in Montana on my wall, staring at it night after night, picturing the life I wanted—one with mountains, open land, a home filled with warmth and love. I started repeating a mantra to myself: “kids, farm, house in Montana, become a therapist.” If I could just get through this chapter, I could make that dream a reality.

Now, I’m on that path. I left Peru with a clear goal in mind. The road ahead isn’t easy—I’m 25, without a car, living in my stepmom’s house, and just starting to build my career. But I’m in the right field, and I know what I need to do next. As tempting as it is to keep chasing new adventures, I’m choosing to invest in something lasting. That means grad school and staying in one place long enough to build something real.