My Book
Beneath A Borrowed Sky
“Beneath a borrowed sky” is an upcoming story about identity, travel, motherhood, empty nesting, and the art of letting go.
I am fifth generation global nomad, and this story of movement is about my constant search for a place to land, a place to call Home. I am a typical third culture kid (TCK). I grew up all over the world and continued that way of life throughout my adult life. I’m now bringing up four sixth generation global nomad kids who move around the world with us.
I say I am from everywhere and nowhere. So do my kids. This book is about what that looks like to have grown up without a place to call Home, a place to belong to. It’s also about all the beautiful countries and cultures that I’ve had the privilege to live in and learn about.
It’s about motherhood but particularly about raising global kids in this transient environment and the consequences it can have on them as they develop their characters without a place to identify with.
I will also explore the differences between my upbringing vs. my kid’s upbringing.
Whether you are an intrepid traveler, or an armchair traveler, Home is a feeling. Of being loved and accepted for who you are. It’s family, and a feeling of belonging.
No matter what your story is, your Home is where you can be your true self.
visit my blog
The Earthquake
Gaien-Nishi-Dori is it’s usual hustle and bustle. One of the main arteries weaving it’s way around down-town Tokyo. Green, yellow, and black taxis stopping and starting, picking up and dropping off at every corner. Two airport limousine buses are parked outside the...
Catalan Bay, Gibraltar
It was late afternoon. Simon, Mum and I had just got back from spending our usual long day at the beach. We were all finding it difficult to muster up the energy needed to put our skates on for the next part of our day. It had been a typical enjoyable day at Catalan...
A frantic plane ride from Kinshasa, Zaire to Lubumbashi, Zaire
We were being thrown all over the place. Our parents held on to us, squeezing our tiny bodies so tight our very lungs felt like they were about to burst. At least that’s how I remember it. Robby’s memory of that moment was different. He remembers the weird man with...
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