I’ve lived in Portugal and Spain for the past 17 years. I moved across borders, learned new languages, built a life and contributed to the communities around me. And yet, no one has ever questioned my right to be here. No one has asked if I belong.
Because I’m tall, blonde, and European-looking. Because I’m called an expat.
But what does that word really mean? And why does someone else, doing the same thing—moving to a new country to seek opportunity or safety—get labelled an immigrant, often with suspicion or hostility?
This double standard has always bothered me. And the truth is, I’m not immune to it either.
The Complexity of Belonging
My own story is a tapestry of movement and in-betweenness. My grandmother was Indo-African. My father immigrated from Ireland to the Netherlands, where I was born and raised. But even growing up there, I never fully felt like I belonged. I was Dutch on paper, but inside, I often felt like an outsider—straddling cultural worlds, quietly aware of the layers I carried that didn’t quite fit the mould.
And yet, because of how I look, the assumptions people make, and the privilege I carry, I’ve been able to move freely through Europe without being questioned. No one calls me a migrant. No one wonders if I “fit in.”
This isn’t just about language. It’s about power. It’s about race, class, and who gets to move freely through the world—and who doesn’t.
This is where the principle of conscious living comes in. It’s not just about what you eat or how you move—it’s about how deeply you’re willing to see. To sit with truth. To examine your place in the world and question the narratives you benefit from, even unknowingly. Conscious living asks us to move through life with awareness—to recognise our role in systems, to take responsibility, and to live in a way that uplifts others too.
Conscious Living and the Need for Honest Dialogue
And while I deeply believe in immigration and the right to move, I also believe we need to stop pretending that there’s no problem. Because there is. Creating thriving multicultural communities requires commitment from both individuals and governments.
And ignoring it only strengthens the voices of those who offer fear and division instead of solutions. We’ve seen this across Europe. The far right is gaining traction not because they’re offering good answers, but because for too long, others have avoided having the hard conversations.
Yes, I believe people should be allowed to seek safety, dignity, and a better life. But I also believe that when you arrive in a new country, you have a responsibility to learn the language, understand the culture, contribute to society, and be held accountable—just as you should be protected and supported.
This isn’t about assimilation or abandoning your roots. It’s about respect going both ways. It’s about shared responsibility. That means individuals who move abroad must learn, contribute, and respect the social fabric they enter. But it also means governments must take real responsibility—offering clear solutions for housing, equal rights, education, healthcare access, and real opportunities for integration. Without this, frustration builds on both sides, and the far right is handed fuel for their fire.
What worries me is that many governments, especially on the left, avoid naming these issues. They fear sounding intolerant. But by avoiding the conversation entirely, they leave space for extreme voices to dominate it.
Take Spain, for example. The current government recently announced a major increase in immigration—without offering any clear plan for integration, support, or communication with the public. That lack of clarity may not affect me directly, but for people already leaning toward frustration or fear, it’s like fuel to the fire.
This is why conscious living must also include political and social awareness. Being awake isn’t just about self-care—it’s about the care of the collective. We can no longer separate our personal lives from the greater social fabric we are part of.
From the Mat to the World: Embodied Belonging
This reflection isn’t separate from my work—it’s deeply connected.
As a somatic movement teacher, I guide people—mostly women—back into their bodies. Into sensation. Into presence. I invite them to become aware of what’s truly there, not what they wish were there.
There’s something I always say in my classes: “Listen to the body whisper, so you don’t need to hear her scream.”
And I believe the same is true for society.
If we ignore the early signs—disconnection, resentment, fear—we risk a collective scream that will be much harder to hold. But if we choose to listen now, to stay present with the discomfort, to move with honesty and integrity, then there’s still time to respond with care.
That’s what somatic movement teaches us: to be in the body fully, to feel the truth of what’s there, and to meet it without flinching. That same embodied belonging is what I long for in the world.
We are not separate from our experiences of migration and embodiment. Living abroad with awareness means holding both privilege and responsibility in your hands—and walking with them, side by side.
This is what personal growth through movement looks like in action. It’s about weaving the personal with the political, the body with the collective. Through conscious living, we become more capable of contributing to a world that values empathy, equity, and awareness.
The Future I Hope to Shape
I’ve spent my life crossing borders, both internal and external. That experience lives in my body. It shapes how I move, how I teach, how I see the world.
It’s why I care so deeply about creating spaces—on the mat, in retreat, in conversation—where truth and compassion can coexist. Spaces where we’re brave enough to talk about somatic reflections on privilege and the subtleties of navigating identity through the body.
I want to be part of shaping a future where:
We’re brave enough to be honest
Multicultural communities are built on real foundations, not slogans
Everyone is treated with respect, held to shared values, and supported to thrive
This is the heart of conscious living abroad: not just going somewhere new, but bringing your whole self with you. Being willing to see the systems you’re part of, and doing your part to shift them.
This is what it means to be in motion. To live a life of mindful migration. To honour your roots, your journey, and your responsibility to the world around you.
It begins, always, with listening. To our own bodies. To each other. To the whispers—before they turn into screams.
If you feel called to explore this deeper in your own body—to cultivate awareness, groundedness, and embodied truth—come practice with me. My retreats are designed to hold exactly this kind of inquiry.
Join me:
September 20–26, 2025 in Cantabria (The Empowerment Retreat)
November 15–21, 2025 in Portugal (The Empowerment Journey)
January 17–23, 2026 in Cantabria (The Path Retreat)
Together we move, feel, listen, and begin again.
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