Hello! I’m so happy you’re here. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been labeled “the squiggly line” in my family. The unpredictable, incredibly stubborn, wild card within a family of careful, methodical planners. The sixth grader that instigated a year-long protest against the dress code, the high schooler that moved out to work on a farm, the college student that impulsively adopted a dog - I will admit I keep even myself on my toes.

When I was young, being called a “squiggle” would make me cry. It felt coded in negativity, dripping in the uncertainty that I would succeed in life. Now, I’m twenty-two, living in Madrid, Spain, with my Australian Shepherd, Cinder. Being a squiggle has brought endless adventure to my life; I’ve haggled my way through Budapest, danced on the beaches in Barcelona, and watched the sunset over the Acropolis. I’ve rafted class five rapids, run through the canyons of Moab, and hiked parts of the Appalachian Trail. However, my squiggly-ness has also ensued mass amounts of chaos; a brief kidnapping in Athens, a month of homelessness in Spain, the general waterboarding that follows becoming a raft guide - the excitement is relentless.

I spent the majority of college learning to love my squiggly-ness and everything that comes with my own unpredictability. Now, as a post-grad, I’m learning how to exist in a world that has unimaginable expectations for those of us in our early twenties. How to balance falling in love with my own life while also building a lasting future. These last three months have been a whirlwind of sheer happiness; watching the sunset over Retiro Park, chicken fighting in the ocean, and dancing nights away in clubs; while simultaneously wrestling with the anxiety of the future, combined with the stress of moving to a country where I don’t speak the language, starting a new job, and finding a place to live.

I love my squiggly-ness and the life I’ve built with it. I love finding my fellow squiggles, the lifelong friends I’ve met sitting at a bank, and the strangers on the street offering me kindness. I love the crazy stories and stretching of boundaries that come with a squiggly life. Maybe you feel a little squiggly, or you’re trying to embrace your inner squiggle. Maybe you simply want to read stories of a squiggle trying to navigate life abroad. Regardless of the reason, I’m happy that you’re here, and welcome to Squiggles in Spain.