I was born in Uzbekistan and raised by a single mother who, after the fall of the Soviet Union, found a creative way to get us to the US and to New York City, of all places. She wanted more for her kids, she made it happen, and I am eternally grateful for her sacrifice.
So I did what every good daughter is "supposed" to do. I worked full-time through college (so I, nor my mama, ever had to drown in my student debt), earned the degrees, and landed a job at a bank in the middle of the 2008 financial crisis. I climbed the ladder, built a career, and designed a role for myself I genuinely loved, with a six-figure salary, six weeks of PTO (I know, that's a lot for most people) and a place where I was respected, trusted, and mostly left alone to do my thing. Living the dream life in the heart of New York City.
On paper, I had it all. But something was always missing.
I'm obsessed with travel and no matter how many PTO days I hoarded, I could never be gone longer than a few weeks at a time. Remote work wasn't on the table, and I watched my real life happening in those short weeks and weekends away.
So, naturally, on my 40th birthday, I pulled said F*it and left. I quit the job. Left my perfect NYC life, and the country. With no perfect plan. No idea where it would lead. Just a decision to live a quieter, more intentional life in the places that called to me, slowly and on my own terms.
And that's exactly what I'm doing.