Dear Reader,

I know it’s been a long time since I posted anything, and I AM SORRY, OKAY? Life has been, let’s just say, a bit of a downward spiral lately. Between work, weather, and wondering what I’m doing with my life, I kind of disappeared for a while. But I’m back now, and I want to share something deeply personal and close to my heart.

October 17th, 2021, was the day everything changed, the day I landed in Toronto, Canada with a heart full of hope, a suitcase full of dreams, and a smile full of excitement that barely hid the nervous breakdown waiting to happen. The air was cold, the sky looked unfamiliar, and yet something in me whispered, “girl this is where it begins, buckle up”.

The first few months were… well.. chaotic, to put it gently ( chaotic is an understatement actually). I was a freshly unpacked student trying to figure out why Google Maps hated me, why everything closed by 9 p.m., and how to cook on an electric stove that clearly had commitment issues. My dal burnt, my rotis resembled maps of unknown countries, and my smoke alarm and I developed a complicated relationship. The winters were absolutely brutal, I realized -20°C doesn’t just freeze your fingers, it freezes your will to live.

But I pushed through. Because every Desi who’s moved abroad knows that survival here is both an art and a test of faith. Slowly, I was able to find my rhythm, stocking up on Indian snacks, discovering the one grocery store that sold decent paneer for $8, and learning how to carry both groceries and emotional trauma on the same TTC ride home.

Somewhere between those cold nights and some lost and some warm friendships, my life began to make sense again. I met people who became my chosen family, the ones who would show up with wine when I was feeling low, who celebrated my smallest wins, and who made this strange country feel a little bit like home. Together we built a community out of nothing.

Celebrating Diwali in cramped apartments, singing Bollywood songs at 2 a.m., and making Maggi when the world felt too heavy. And through all of that, I learned something I didn’t expect, that home isn’t always a place. Sometimes, it’s people. Sometimes, it’s moments. And sometimes, it’s just the version of you who refuses to give up when everything feels impossible.

Of course, there were hard days. Days when loneliness hit like a wave, when I missed the chaos of home, or when a simple “how are you, beta?” over a video call would make my eyes sting. The days when homesickness hit out of nowhere, or when I’d see, what us Telugu people like to call it “Avakai” (Achaar) in the store and suddenly miss my mom’s cooking so much it hurt. The nights when I questioned everything, my choices, my career, my future, and wondered if I was really where I was meant to be. And on those days, your chosen family comes to save you with a bottle of wine in one hand and samosa chaat in the other.

But looking back now, I realize those moments shaped me just as much as the good ones did. Those were the days that made me who I am today. Strong, independent and confident. A woman who’s able to believe in herself and not having to take anyone’s sh*t.

Canada taught me resilience, the quiet kind that doesn’t look dramatic but shows up every day, even when you don’t feel strong enough. It taught me humility, independence, and that chai can heal approximately 80% of life’s problems.

And now, 4 years later, as I step into what might be my last year here, my heart feels both full and heavy. Canada has seen every version of me, the girl who arrived with stars in her eyes, the one who fell apart, and the one who rebuilt herself piece by piece.

Leaving won’t be easy. This country has given me so much. Lessons, friendships, love, laughter, tears, and a confidence I never knew I had. I came here with a suitcase full of dreams, and I’m leaving with a lifetime of lessons, a heart full of gratitude, and more core memories than my iCloud can handle.

Maybe I won’t be here forever, but this place, its people, its winters, its quiet mornings and loud memories will always be a part of me.

Thank you, Canada, for the love, the lessons, and the version of me I found in your embrace.

I would also like to take this opportunity to thank my parents, I am eternally grateful to them for letting me have this opportunity. I love you Mom and Dad I hope you guys know that.

I love you Canada, always did, always will ❤️

ALSO,

This is not the end of my story, it has just begun. Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost.

And to those of you celebrating HAPPY DIWALI ! May this festival of lights light up your life ✨

Authors note :

For those of you who have ever lived abroad or started over somewhere new, I hope this story reminds you that you’re not alone. Every struggle, every laugh, every homesick night becomes part of who you are. And someday, you’ll look back just like I am and realize how far you’ve come and you’ll love the person you’ve shaped yourself into.