This village means everything to me. My dad was born and raised in Mazraat El Toufah and passed down his obsession with his hometown to me. So when I was 24 – still an insecure girl who didn’t believe in herself — I moved here. I had no idea if I’d make it as a journalist, learn the language, or make friends. Every day, I had severe anxiety. But walking through these mountains every morning, attending daily mass at the village church, answering the door to neighbors checking on me, strengthening my Arabic, and eventually publishing my first article … slowly but surely, I built confidence. I started believing in myself. Inspired by the people around me, I started relaxing, eating, and living more, and even grew out of an eating disorder.
I guess it’s fitting I got to finish my 29th year in the place that helped me grow. My husband and I spent the summer in Egypt and Lebanon. I dedicated part of the Lebanon trip to gathering as many interviews and potential stories as possible — just like my past trips.
Except this time, I got to bring my husband — something I never dreamed I’d be able to say. After years of figuring things out alone, I had someone holding my hand (and camera), supporting me in every step — just like he once promised. I got butterflies watching everyone meet and fall in love with him, too. I got to pick vegetables in the garden with my mom. I got to drink coffee on the balcony with my dad – after not knowing whether he’d survive, let alone travel, after his stroke.
I cried leaving. Part of me wished we could stay forever. I didn’t want to return to my big-girl job, or turn 30, or accept the fact that I can’t wander Lebanon for months anymore. But I’m thankful for the time I got to spend here in my 20s. Maybe I didn’t publish every article I wanted to. Maybe I didn’t hit every career goal. Heck, I just brought home story ideas that I fear will never get published. But my time here has helped me grow as a person. And I feel blessed to bring that into a new decade. Here’s to 30 😊🙏🏼