As my readership grew, so did the encouragement to tell my story more fully.

At first, I thought I was writing a book for my children—a way of helping them understand the generations of movement that had shaped our family and perhaps, one day, themselves. But somewhere during the writing process, I realised I wasn’t only writing for them.

I was writing for the little girl I had once been.

For the woman I was still becoming.

And for everyone who had ever struggled to find the words for the complicated emotions of living between cultures, carrying multiple identities, or wondering where they truly belonged.

As my readership grew, so did the encouragement to tell my story more fully.

At first, I thought I was writing a book for my children—a way of helping them understand the generations of movement that had shaped our family and perhaps, one day, themselves. But somewhere during the writing process, I realised I wasn’t only writing for them.

I was writing for the little girl I had once been.

For the woman I was still becoming.

And for everyone who had ever struggled to find the words for the complicated emotions of living between cultures, carrying multiple identities, or wondering where they truly belonged.

Writing Beneath A Borrowed Sky became an act of discovery as much as storytelling. It was a slow and deliberate process. I committed myself to writing one thousand words each day, trusting that consistency would eventually become a manuscript. Some days those words flowed effortlessly; on others they arrived reluctantly. But I showed up every day because I believed the story deserved to be told.

Support and Inspiration

Like every writer, I didn’t make the journey alone.

I have been incredibly fortunate to learn from people who have generously shared their wisdom and believed in my work. My mentor, Anna Fox, was the first person to tell me that my story mattered and encouraged me to write it. She helped me find confidence in my own voice before I fully trusted it myself.

As the manuscript evolved, I was privileged to work with my editors, Jo Parfitt and Susan Boyd, whose thoughtful guidance challenged me to write more honestly, more clearly and with greater emotional depth. Their experience, insight and unwavering support helped shape not only my memoir but also the writer I have become.

Along the way, I found inspiration in writers whose work gave language to experiences that had long felt difficult to explain. Ruth E. Van Reken‘s writing on Third Culture Kids, Pico Iyer‘s reflections on global living, Kristin Louise Duncombe‘s memoir, and Miriam Ottimofiore‘s beautifully observed stories all reminded me that our lives between places deserve to be written about.

Today, I continue to write because I believe stories help us understand ourselves and one another. They build bridges across cultures, generations and experiences. They remind us that, although our journeys are unique, the emotions that shape them are often shared.

I’m delighted that my writing journey is only just beginning.

Alongside my newsletter, essays and speaking engagements, I’m now researching and writing my second book—a work of historical fiction inspired by my mother’s family. Set against the backdrop of the Franco regime and the Second World War in Gibraltar, Spain and Portugal, it weaves together family history, memory and imagination to explore another generation’s search for identity, resilience and home.