The Soft Landing

(A Different Kind of Arrival)

I made it back to Spain — but only after one of the wildest 24-hour turnarounds I’ve had in a long time.

We got off the cruise early Friday, went straight to the train station, rode three hours back to Orlando, and the moment I walked into my mom’s place, the clock started ticking. I had six hours — to unpack, repack, reorganize my entire life, and get back to the airport for my 11PM flight.

Honestly, it didn’t feel real.
I blinked and suddenly I was in Europe again.

But the next morning, when I stepped outside in Spain — jet-lagged, dehydrated, unsure whether it was Sunday, Monday, or simply “travel day” — something in me softened. This return felt different. Like a chapter quietly clicking into place.

And this time, I wasn’t arriving from chaos.
I was arriving from a reset.

The cruise really was that good. Explorer Journeys surprised me in the best ways — the food, the service, the calm. It was the kind of luxury that never needs to announce itself; it just wraps around you. Sharing that with my mom, my best friend, and her sister made it even sweeter. We laughed, rested, ate embarrassingly well, and let ourselves be taken care of in a way that adulthood rarely allows.

It reminded me how simple restoration can feel when someone else is making your bed and handing you a flat white at breakfast.

But coming back here — to Spain — after two years of nonstop movement felt like something else entirely. A soft landing. A grounding. A settling of energy I didn’t realize had been scattered across continents.

I’m not calling Spain “home.”
But being here feels like alignment.
And right now, that’s enough.

There’s also something tender about coming back to someone. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that — someone to grab dinner with, make plans with, look forward to seeing. It adds a sweetness to everything, even the jet lag.

And maybe that’s the real theme of this week: softness.

Not softness as in comfort or ease —
but softness as in finally letting life meet me gently after years where everything had to be earned, pushed, or rebuilt from scratch.

These last two years — the constant movement, the reinvention, the hardness, the rebuilding — weren’t about running away. They were about creating space. Making room for clarity, for peace, for possibility. And somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I stopped surviving and started choosing intentionally.

Spain isn’t the end of the story; it’s simply the next right place for me to be.
A place to breathe.
To apply for this visa.
To work.
To reconnect with myself.
To step into 2026 with intention instead of scramble.

And now here come the holidays — the stretch of the year where everything speeds up and slows down at the same time. Plans get messy. Emotions run high. Routines disappear. My mom will be here for Christmas. Projects still need to be wrapped. And I need to unpack my life while still technically living out of a suitcase.

But instead of feeling overwhelmed, I feel… steady.

Maybe that’s the real shift.
Maybe stability doesn’t come from staying still —
maybe it comes from finally feeling aligned, wherever you are.

So here’s to soft landings, even when they come after whirlwind travel.
Here’s to endings that feel like beginnings.

And here’s to the versions of ourselves we meet when life finally slows down enough for us to see them.

Après Me,
Sherita