I’ve been meaning to write this. Not because I had to, but because something about this story still doesn’t feel real—and at the same time, it’s the realest thing that’s ever happened to me. Before Lisbon, there was Chicago. A city I love, and a life I built with so much pride and effort. I had spent years growing a business I believed in, coaching incredible clients, and chasing a version of success I thought would fulfill me. But even with all of that, I started to feel like something was off.
I tried everything—reworking my schedule, taking on different clients, adding new offers to my business. But it always felt like I was trying to rearrange pieces of a puzzle that just didn’t fit anymore. I was tired. Tired of rushing. Tired of adding more. Tired of feeling like I was living a life that no longer aligned with what I really wanted. I wasn’t traveling as much as I craved. I didn’t have much of a social life. I was burning out, and for the first time, I couldn’t outwork it.
So I knew I needed a trip. Somewhere new. Something for me. I looked at a few options in the States, maybe California. But then I realized it would be cheaper to spend 8 days in Portugal than four in LA. A close friend had just been to Lisbon and said it was amazing—the food, the energy, the safety. I was sold. I booked a solo trip to Lisbon. Eight days and with no expectations. Just me. It was one of the best solo trips I had ever taken. There’s something about solo travel that just changes you and challenges you in the greatest of ways. I was living so fully during that trip and it was exactly what I needed.
At the time, I had been single for a while. Friends had their fair share of trying to convince me to get on dating apps, but I’d never been into it. I had a profile once, but I never used it. Still, something about being in Lisbon made me curious. So I opened the app and thought, “Let’s just see what the dating pool looks like here.”
I swiped a little with zero intention in actually meeting anyone—I wasn’t about to risk a bad date on my dream solo trip. But one guy caught my eye. There was something about his profile, his energy, his photography. He messaged me and offered to take me out for a drink that weekend.
I told him I was leaving in two days. “Thanks, but I’m heading back to the States.”
And that was it.
I thought about him after. He was handsome, clearly talented, and seemed different. But I went home, grateful for the trip and everything it gave me. That was supposed to be the end of the story.
Until it wasn’t.
A few weeks later, we reconnected on Instagram. I followed his photography and couldn’t stop looking at the way he captured the world. He had just been to Iceland and I messaged him to tell him how stunning his work was. And from that moment on, we never stopped talking. We talked everyday for three months straight. Calls, texts, FaceTimes. We talked about travel, creative work, goals, values. Day and night never stopped talking. It was wild to miss someone so much that you’ve never met before.
Eventually, he said it: “I’d really like you to come back to Lisbon.”
And I knew I had to go. There wasn’t a single part of me that questioned it. I booked the ticket without hesitation. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t go. I knew something was happening. I didn’t know exactly what—but I could feel it. When I landed in Lisbon, I was grinning from ear to ear, texting my girlfriends like crazy. Excited. Nervous. I had never felt more sure about something in my life. Walking out of baggage claim, there he was. Nervous, smiling, holding flowers. We locked eyes for the first time, hugged, kissed, and both exhaled. It was instant. We spent a week together, just us. No one even knew I was there except a few close friends. No distractions. No phones. We lived in our own little bubble. We knew we were going to be together from here on out.
In 2024, he came to the States three times. He met my family. We had road trips and city days. He helped me with my business. It was a year I’ll never forget. After a few months, we started having the bigger conversations—the ones that shape what’s next. We just knew. We talked about what we wanted, where we wanted to build, and how we could actually grow into the lives we envisioned.
It was clear that him moving to the States wasn’t the right fit—for a lot of reasons. Culturally, logistically, financially. And honestly, it would take longer to be together. The easier, clearer path was for me to move to Lisbon. So I started the visa process. It wasn’t easy—balancing full-time work, building an online platform, navigating paperwork. But he handled everything on his side. Slowly, I began to let go of my old life. I sold my furniture. Moved out of my apartment. Said goodbye to friends and family.
And after 16 months together, I was in Lisbon—permanently.
As of February 2025, this is home. Now three months in, I can honestly say: this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And it all unfolded in the weird, wild way that timing tends to work—not always when you want it, but often when you need it most.
I didn’t just find love. I found the change I had been craving for so long. Before I met him, I was proud—but also lost. I had built a business on my own, had been a coach for ten years, but deep down I realized I wasn’t living the kind of life I encourage my clients to create.
Now, I am.
We’re in our first apartment. We’re figuring it out as we go. We’re cooking, laughing, working side by side, and building a life together.
I don’t know where the story goes next—but I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
