Aro’s Playdate

Aro met Reynaldo at this large field at Porto Montenegro in Tivat. It seems like the kind of place they use for concerts, wide open with lots of space for dogs to run. At first, everything was great. Aro has this welcoming personality where she can make the bitchiest dog love her, and she knows she’s cute, so yeah, which makes them feel safe to play with her. She has the energy of the Tasmanian Devil, hence the nickname Tazzy and my little crackhead.

But with this energy comes dogs that think they can take advantage of her or bully her, given that she’s also small. You know the saying, “watch out for the short ones”? They may be small but have the personality of a six-foot-six man. Yeah, that’s us. :-)

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Today, I went hiking with Aro, and now, as I write this laying in bed, she’s completely passed out beside me. What was supposed to be a three-hour hike turned into six, and my body is definitely voicing its complaints, but my heart isn’t.

I know, I know it sounds extremely cheesy but seriously. on days where everything feels so heavy and suffocating and hard to see past the darkness, i look forward to days like this. days like this where i could see that everything was going to be okay. that I’m going to be okay. i stood at the top of a mountain near Fort Vrmac and… my, oh my… it felt freeing. i mean i know i have my issues and sometimes it’s hard to see past it but today my lord i didn’t have any issues climbing or feeling or crying. everything felt so safe and it felt so good to let everything out and to just be without my shields. to feel the lightness and freeness of life. there was nothing weighing me down or wrapping its hand around my throat.

Funny enough, I actually tried to do this hike last week, but the weather had other plans. I waited, and today we came back, and it felt like a quiet victory over the things that try to hold us back.

Since adopting Aro last year, we have worked extremely hard on her training and her listening ears. she’s always been a happy and feisty little girl. something i love about her. she’s an explorer, so off-leash training was really important to us. Anyway, there’s something about watching Aro off-leash that always makes me smile. She has this way of exploring the world that’s so carefree. She’ll trot ahead of me, then circle back as if to say, Come on, you have to see this! she’s like a child in that way. Sometimes she lags behind, sniffing everything, just soaking in the space around her. It’s like she’s reminding me that part of the joy of life is letting yourself wander, not always knowing exactly what’s next or where you’ll end up, but trusting you’ll find something beautiful along the way.

As we climbed higher, there were a couple of heart-stopping moments. For some reason, Aro kept gravitating toward the edge of the path. She has this fearless curiosity, and she seemed fascinated by the drop-offs and the edges of the stairs as we went up the mountain. She tripped twice, almost fell once, and my heart just about stopped each time. It scared me, and I could tell it scared her too. The last time she stumbled, I saw that flash of fear in her eyes, and I knew I had to trust my instincts. I put her back on the leash for the rest of the climb, and it reminded me how much stronger my intuition has become.

There was a time when I would’ve second-guessed myself when I would’ve convinced myself I was overreacting, or that I didn’t know what I was doing. But now I know that trusting my instincts is part of loving myself, part of protecting both of us. That awareness felt like its own kind of strength.

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I need you to know something. Standing at that peak today looking down at the world from the clouds, I finally understood what we couldn’t see back then: that we are worth everything, that we were worth living. that choosing to keep going wasn’t giving up on peace, it was finding it.

A few months ago,…

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Side note: Their french toast is simple and out of this world.

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Alone.

Aro stayed home. I needed to do this leave her behind, learn how to exist in the world without her. Exposure therapy for both of us, I guess.

You never know how much you depend on something or someone until you don’t have it with you.

I left around 10am. She went to the couch and laid down, and I drove the hour and a half with my audiobook playing - specifically God of Malice by Rina Kent, trying not to think about the anxiety sitting in my chest. This was only the second time I’d left her. The first was a quick grocery run my first full day here. This felt bigger.

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The morning after I arrived in Montenegro, I woke up to silence I didn’t recognize.

Not the absence of noise - there was the ocean, the boats, the distant hum of a world I wasn’t part of yet. But a silence inside me. The kind that comes when something you’ve been running from finally stops chasing you.

I opened the balcony door, and Aro walked past me without hesitation. She sat at the edge, facing the mountains and the bay, completely still. Just looking.

She’s done this every morning since. Like clockwork. Like she knew before I did.

For the first few days, I stayed in this apartment writing. Just being. I’d make tea around 10am and sit on the balcony for hours - the ocean, the mountains, so much green it almost hurt to look at. I journaled. Outlined two scripts. Added chapters to my novel.

I wasn’t lonely. That’s what surprised me most.

My whole life, I’ve felt like I’ve never had a home. I’ve been looking for a place to call mine for as long as I can remember, and here I was - completely isolated - and I felt peace. A kind I’d never known before.

But I also knew: if I stayed in this bubble, I’d be doing myself a disservice. Peace can become avoidance if you’re not careful.

So I texted Nikola aka Nike. Asked about renting a car.

Later that day, he pulled up with a white Citroën. Dropped it off at my door, sent me a list of places to see: Budva, Luštica Bay, Old Town Kotor.

Aro and I got in the car and just drove. No destination. Just mountains and open roads and buildings so old they felt like they’d been waiting. Everything stood out. Everything was beautiful.

We drove for four hours.

Aro was confused at first - she’s used to us sitting together in the back seat while someone else drives. But eventually she settled. Watched the world pass by the same way she watches the bay from the balcony.

When we got home, I sat on the royal blue couch and closed my eyes. Listened to the ocean.

And I knew.

This is where I’m meant to be.

Not just Montenegro. Not just this apartment or this view. But this feeling. This version of myself that can sit in silence and not need to fill it. That can drive for hours with no destination and call it exactly where I need to go.

The home I’ve been looking for isn’t a place I lost. It’s a place I’m becoming.

I’m staying an extra month. November too. This trip won’t end here - I’ll keep traveling, keep discovering. But something shifted. I stopped running toward something and started living inside it.

There’s logistics to figure out - laws, housing, money, all of it. But for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of the how.

Because I finally know the where.

And it’s here. In the quiet. In the mountains. In the way Aro sits on the balcony every morning, like she’s been home all along.

Before leaving Durrës yesterday, around 7am, Aro and I went to my favorite café Café Coté. I ordered two Americanos, a lemon dessert and a bowl of whipoped cream for Aro (I think she deserves it). It was bittersweet. I had really good fun times in Durrës. As I sat there, I thought: I’ll be back again.

We headed back to the apartment because our scheduled taxi was on the way to pick us up to take us to the bus station in Tirana. The taxi driver was so sweet. He was patient, helped me with my bags, answered any questions I asked, and when he dropped me off at the bus station, he made sure I was okay and that I was at the right place before he left. It was early in the morning, so no traffic or anything to hold us up.

We got to Tirana bus station around 8am, and it was really quiet but it felt really safe. Aro and I looked for our bus, and given that we were really early, we hung out, got snacks, played a bit, and waited till it was time to get on the bus.

The bus driver was great too. For the most part, everyone in Albania I interacted with was pretty amazing and kind except for the handful of weirdos I came across. I won’t let the 5-6 people who were not normal in my book change or taint my experience in Albania. Will I come back? Maybe. Who knows. There’s still so much to explore, and Albania is one of those places I think is a diamond in the rough.

The first bus was from Tirana to Budva. We crossed the border at Muriqan (Albania) / Sukobin (Montenegro), near Shkodër and Ulcinj. Aro did amazing. She loves looking out the window on the bus.

Anyway, I didn’t get to my apartment till about 10pm yesterday, which wasn’t really bad. My second bus was a bit late, but the driver turned a 45-minute drive into a 30-minute drive, so I’m not complaining. We made it safe and sound, and our taxi was waiting for us when we got off the bus.

My taxi driver, Nike, was really cool. I’d booked a taxi on Booking.com, which I thought was a little expensive, but after talking to him for a while, we exchanged numbers. It was a white SUV. We talked about my travels, life in Montenegro, things to do and places to go. Through Booking.com I paid about 40 euros, but when he picked me up it was 20 euros for the whole trip. He helped me with my way-too-many bags and gave Aro some loving, and he gave me his number just in case I needed anything.

I actually sent him a message this morning because I forgot I needed to get food for Aro, so he took me to Porto Montenegro so I could walk around a bit, explore, and go to a supermarket called Voli. He picked me up and took me back home.

The apartment is on a quiet street, about a minute drive to Kotor and 15 minutes from downtown Tivat. It’s a 3-floor apartment building with 2 apartments on each floor. It’s a one-bedroom apartment with a large balcony, big bathroom. The kitchen is a bit narrow, but the living room and bedroom are pretty big. The bed in the bedroom is a double bed with room to move around.

We checked in and just as quickly fell asleep.

When I woke up this morning, all I could hear was the sound of the ocean. And when I opened the door to the balcony holy fuck, it’s the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen. Mountains in the distance going into the clouds, the ocean right under me, so many boats, and green all around. I mean, the sounds of the ocean, the mountains in the distance, the clouds. It’s so beautiful.

I was so stunned, I started crying. I didn’t even realize when it started, but it’s fucking breathtaking and I get to have this for a whole month. Just a minute or two because crying is still uncomfortable for me. But I felt peace. Hope. Happiness. It’s been a really long time since I cried happy tears. I honestly can’t remember when the last time was.

I couldn’t be more grateful.

Aro loves the view as much as I do. She walked out with me and just sat there looking out to the view. She sat there for about 10 minutes. When I went to physically carry her to the front door for a walk, she was still sitting there, just looking out into the distance. She seemed happy. This was the first time she didn’t follow me to the bathroom or kitchen. She just sat there. When I called her to go for a walk, it took a bit to get her out the door.

The last time she did this was when we were on the beach in Greece.

I honestly thought it was going to be a hard travel day, but even though it was long, it was smooth. I can’t wait to see the sunsets and sunrises and everything in between.

I don’t have any expectations for Montenegro. But being here for just 2 days, I know that my experience here will be different. I’m here till the end of October. No tours booked. Just open to whatever comes.

I’m excited about what Montenegro has to offer.

The past few days I’d had this lingering feeling I couldn’t pin down, a warning I kept trying to figure out. I’m working on taking my gut at face value, without questions. My issue is that I question everything. I really wanted to see the Blue Eye because naive me thought I’d see the picture-perfect “blue eye,” and whatever I thought I’d see, I’d see, and everything would be great. Everything in me kept telling me I shouldn’t go anymore, but I was way too excited about the “Eye.” It was already booked, so fuck it, right? Maybe I was too excited and ignored my gut.

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Today I had one goal: stay in the present. There was no hoping, no expectations, no wondering just my presence. It felt honestly amazing. The difference about today was that I actually tried without trying. That doesn’t really make sense, but I did. I met people, had conversations, listened, and engaged.

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After my trip to Berat, I was buzzing talking to locals, wandering the streets like a local, and feeling so much hope. I booked a day trip to Bovilla Lake and Gamti Mountain on the way back, thinking it’d be a chill afternoon by a lake with a little hike. Lord, was I wrong. And so glad I was.

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The past few days have been something from a rude tour guide, to racist people, to a group of guys trying to run off Aro, to a bunch of old shit I thought I’d put to bed popping up. It’s been an exhausting week.

Why does trauma pop up at the most unexpected times? This past week has been brutal. I’m not someone who literally dreams much, and I’m okay with that. But every so often when I do dream, my dreams are memories of my past and never the good ones. They always drag me back to survival mode: me alone, always alone and fighting or running up a hill while being chased, hands around my neck, pleading and begging them to stop always begging. Me in my darkest time with no one to protect me; me calling out for my father, my mother, my brothers and never being heard or seen. I’m so tired.

The night of September 20th, the dreams started. Every night for six nights straight.

When these moments happen, I try to reflect on them and see how far I’ve come since I was ten. Sometimes I make peace with it and other times I get so angry I can’t breathe and I beg the gods and spirits to please give me peace. Sometimes they listen and other times they just let me scream and cry and live in it.

It’s funny going back to the place I called home, a place I was so sure was safe but became my second hell. I’m talking about living with family back in America before I moved back from Nigeria. Being there gave me a false sense of hope and safety. It didn’t take long to see the hate in the eyes of people who shared my blood, to feel the rejection again and again. I saw the push and pull in the eyes of others in that house. Living there, I held onto the hope of love and acceptance for so long that when I finally let it go, I lost a piece of me. It seems like I’m still looking for a way to mend that part of me.

Now I’m 36 years old and I find it really hard to trust the people from my past who say they want to do better and be in my life now.

Hope is a fickle thing. I had hope for so long. I knew if that hope died, a part of me would too. And it did.

These dreams cling to me for days, sometimes weeks after I wake up. They’re so hard to shake. No matter how much I meditate, lift, or run, they stick to me like barnacles to a ship’s hull.

I swear it’s exhausting. Sometimes I get five minutes of peace, sometimes hours, but they always come back. I wonder how much longer I can keep fighting and living like this. I’m okay with not dreaming the good things, but if I can’t dream the good things I’d rather not dream at all.

It’s been six days of these memories. On the sixth day, I went on a tour to see the best parts of Albania, and it was a mess. My guide wouldn’t listen, threatened to strand me when I got lost, and didn’t explain anything. I encountered a couple who were openly racist, holding up a line of people trying to take photos at the Blue Eye. I was already on edge and remembering who I was. I took a deep breath, apologized to the gorgeous woman I was trying to photograph, and kept walking. I refused to let others ruin my day. I refused to let the people who inflicted the hurt win.

I kept trying to let it melt away, but later that week when I got home and took Aro out on the beach, a few streets down from the apartment, the sun had just set, around 7pm a group of guys decided to torment her. One pretended to swing a beach umbrella at her and ran her off twice. She was scared and ran away. And everyone knows she’s a fast runner, so yeah, she was gone in just a few seconds.

I couldn’t take it. I was holding back a breakdown. I lost my composure for a moment and yelled at them: “What the fuck is wrong with you? Doesn’t that make you feel big, you cunts?” Then I remembered I was in a foreign country and tried not to escalate. I called Aro back; she ran to me while I pieced myself together. We walked away, and I tried not to cry out of anger and frustration and sadness and everything in between. When we got home, I lay in bed and let it all go.

Aro seems to know when I have these bad moments because when I woke up, she was lying with her head on my stomach. I felt bad because we are both not great with being cuddled, but now during this trip in those moments, that’s all we are both doing. she is trained for moments like this but its still very hard for me sometimes she walks over and lays her head on my lap or near me. Other times she walks to the door, sniffs a little, then walks up to me and lays her head near me or on me telling me we could go for a walk. She finds a way to get me out of the house to play and to walk or run. Sometimes we walk for hours; other times we just go to the beach and play until she’s covered in sand and can barely walk.

When I woke up the next day, the emotions were still there and I couldn’t place them all. My god... it’s exhausting. Six days later and they’re just starting to ebb.

Sometimes I wonder if I have anything left for myself. I’ve given so much to others that I don’t know if there’s anything left, and I know these are the times when I’m supposed to reach out to friends, family, or someone who can support me but I can’t.

My independence. I’m so used to doing things on my own, so used to falling and picking myself up while battered and bruised, and so used to catching myself when I fall. I don’t know how to reach out and say I need help.

So here I am.

All I can say is: I’m still here. I’m still trying.

In my second week in Durrës, I spent £20 on a taxi, both going and coming from Old Town. The benefit was peace of mind, time, convenience. But taking a taxi, you miss the little things. So I wanted to try something outside my comfort zone. I wanted to travel like a local and go where locals go. Honestly, I don’t even know what I needed or what I was looking for, but I needed to try something different. It was a little hard because I do stand out like a sore thumb, but I still tried.

And today was a success.

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Since getting to Albania, I’ve been having issues waking up in the morning. I’m not really sure why, but since getting here, my 4am mornings are hard to enjoy. I’m waking around 9am now, and I just feel more tired than usual. It’s not a depressive tired it’s a physical tiredness. It hurts when I try to move. It feels like I’ve been in the gym for the first time in a while and my whole body hurts.

In Greece, it was easy for me to get up and be active in the mornings because I knew where the heaviness was coming from my manic/depressive moods. This tiredness is different. More physical. Maybe it’s a vitamin D and B12 deficiency. I’m not sure. I’m just hoping it’s nothing serious.

So this is where grace comes in. I feel like I’m doing myself a disservice by sleeping in. Or letting myself down by not waking up early and taking advantage of the day like I used to. But I’m learning to give myself more grace. To listen to what my body needs instead of pushing through.

For my first tour in Albania, I booked a late afternoon tour, which was perfect. The original tour I was going to go on a night tour around Tirana, the capital of Albania was canceled around 7pm the night before. I wasn’t nervous about going alone, but I was worried. I’ve had a hard time interacting and connecting with people. I’ve retreated into myself for so long, I was worried I’d have issues being around other people and retreat into myself again.

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I pride myself on taking precautions. Some people would call me paranoid. As a woman and a woman who traveling solo, I’ve cultivated a healthy amount of consciousness. It keeps me on my toes and honestly it saves me in situations like last night.

Aro and I weren’t in a dark alley. We were on the boardwalk by the beach or i guess here is know as the coastline. there were so many restaurants, hotels, carnival lights, loud music, and people everywhere. the sun is still just about to start setting and Aro and I walked a little further down where she might be able to run and play, but she never got the chance.

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The day started calm and bright. Aro and I went for a long walk. The streets are full of stray dogs, so freaking many! And I think because Aro is the new dog in town, they all seem to want a piece of her. Some are friendly, but I’m an overprotective dog mom, so no, she can’t say hi to them. Plus, I’m always extremely worried about diseases. She may have every type of preventive in her body, but I’m not one to take chances with her health or mine. Still, she soaks up the attention like a little celebrity. The morning felt perfect.

Four hours later, everything changed.

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The border crossing was easy. Nothing special, really. But people kept looking over and smiling at me and Aro the whole ride. When I crossed the border, it was all country roads and ocean views. Just beautiful. Then came city streets and city noise.

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It’s something I’ve been planning for about a month and a half. A phoenix rising on my left arm, with the words “nothing that happens on the surface of the sea can alter the calm of its depths” written above it. yes i got it from a Penny D book and its one of the only quotes/ saying that I’ve every resonated with. and its a quote by…

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Last week, every part of central Athens was closing early or just closed in general due to Dekapentavgoustos, also known as the Feast of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, which was on August 15th. I didn’t realize it was such a big holiday here. Silly me thought I could get my nails done and maybe try out a new restaurant or something. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the case. The only things open were hotel bars and restaurants. Everywhere was so quiet. Everyone left Athens, going back to their family homes, so no honking of horns, no chatter. The Acropolis, the Parthenon, all museums closed.

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