It all started when I was 18, about to start university, and had no idea what I wanted to study. I was stuck in that classic ‘I don’t know what I want to do with my life’ phase. So, instead of picking one path, I decided to try everything. I figured, why not? The world was full of opportunities, and I was ready to dive in, even if I didn’t have it all figured out yet. The only thing I really knew at 18 was that I wanted to do something creative. So, I went full-on experiment mode: drawing, costume making (yep, I tried that!), cooking, musical instruments, knitting, and of course, photography. Spoiler alert: the whole ‘costume making’ thing didn’t stick (LOL, who was I kidding?). In the end, I dove into English Philology (requested by my grandfather), while photography stayed my forever ‘platonic love’—always there, but never quite the main event. But hey, everything happens for a reason, right? Me, sharing photos and stories in English on this blog? Not a coincidence. It’s like the universe was lowkey setting me up all along. All those years of studying English and shooting photos were just destiny waiting to happen. And here we are—taking those ‘platonic hobbies’ and turning (at least trying) them into something a little more… real.

After finishing my bachelor’s, it felt pretty obvious that I needed a master’s. I mean, in my field, it’s pretty much the bare minimum if you wanna be a strong contender in the job game. So, I casually started applying to programs… until life decided to drop a bomb. My grandmother passed away. One of the last things she said to me was that she wanted me to study wherever my heart wanted to go. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about a degree anymore—it was personal. I HAD to go. No more half-hearted decisions. It was time to make it happen. At first, I had my eyes on the UK. I even got accepted into some pretty big names, like King’s College and Bristol. Sounds cool, right? But, real talk, the financial struggle was no joke. It wasn’t just my problem—it was a family effort, too. Plus, the programs were only a year long, which meant it would’ve been more of a study sprint than a real experience. I would’ve been racing through coursework and barely having time to breathe, let alone travel or soak up the culture. So… it wasn’t the dream I thought it would be. After a bit of soul-searching (and probably Googling at 2 a.m.), I stumbled upon the perfect program. Two years, three countries in Europe. Yes, please! It was exactly what I was looking for—study, travel, and actually live the European dream. So, I applied, crossed my fingers, got accepted, and… well, the rest is history. I packed my bags and hit the road!

And the rest of the story? Well, that’s gonna unfold right here, post by post, so stick around! (I mean, I might be talking to nobody right now, but hey, I feel a little delusional, and I hope someone’s reading this!)

I’ll wrap it up here for now, but don’t worry, there’s plenty more strawberry goodness to come! (Oh, BTW—Strawberry isn’t just a random fruit I picked for the blog name. It’s been my nickname for 20 years now.)