The Summer I…
A recap of moving back, starting over, and soft-launching life in London.
The summer I moved back to London.
The summer I started a new job.
The summer I played tennis (badly) and, against all odds, kinda liked golf.
The summer I made new friends, re-met old ones, ate way too much, cried over Italian grocery stores (and mum’s ragù), danced at concerts and roof parties, wandered through endless parks, and only really missed the sea (and my Biri 🐱).
It wasn’t the kind of summer with a chart-topper soundtrack or a whirlwind escape. No SoF boat days, no Ibiza sunrise. Instead, it was a season of small rituals and big shifts. A soft launch into a new chapter: London again, but different this time.
Because September has always felt like the real new year. The air sharpens, wardrobes shift, inboxes refill, and we all collectively swap Aperol spritzes for warm matchas. For me, it’s also the month I turn thirty, which feels like both a milestone and a blank canvas.
This summer taught me that new beginnings don’t always look glamorous. Sometimes they look like unpacked boxes, sweaty tennis matches in Hyde Park, questionable golf swings, or crying over the fact that Waitrose will never stock your favourite Italian biscuits. But they also look like unexpected friendships, laughter on rooftops, and the quiet thrill of knowing you’re building a life that’s yours.
So here’s to season two. London, I’m ready ✨