Unboxed: The Messy Art of Becoming Who You’re Meant to Be !!!

What if the journey to becoming who you’re meant to be is less about reaching a polished destination and more about embracing the glorious chaos of life?

I don’t operate on schedules; I thrive on chaotic bursts of energy—wild, unpredictable, and oh-so-real. For a long time, I hated that about myself. And honestly, some days, I still do. Consistency feels like that elusive prize just out of reach. Most days, I grapple with the frustration of it all.

Writing has always been my way of making sense of the world. But sharing my words with others? That’s a different ball game. Suddenly, the space that was once just mine turns into a pressure cooker. For someone who already struggles with feeling “good enough,” that pressure can stop me in my tracks.

The ironic thing about pressure is how it turns life into a race. We chase a never-ending list of accomplishments, and as soon as we check one off, there’s always more. I crave progress, but when things don’t go my way—when I can’t get it right—I spiral. Perfection becomes my poison, and it’s exhausting. Yet, I can’t seem to stop.

But recently, while in Italy, I found an old diary that sparked a revelation. The ten-year-old me had dreams: to be a writer, a journalist, someone “known around the world,” and an interpreter.

I didn’t become exactly those things, but those dreams have woven themselves into who I am today.

I may not call myself a writer in the traditional sense, but I’ve never stopped writing, even if it’s just for myself. Writing is where I turn when nothing else makes sense. It’s like life—messy and unpredictable. You don’t need the whole picture to begin. That’s how I view life now, too. You start with what you have, and as you move forward, it unfolds. None of it is random.

No, I didn’t become an interpreter, but my mind is full of languages—ways of seeing and understanding the world. And although I’m not “known around the world,” this little blog has been read in 39 countries. Ten-year-old me would have been amazed. Sometimes, we forget to pause and be proud of the things we once only dreamed of.

What I’ve come to realize is that I’m not confined to a single identity or destination. I’m constantly evolving. And as I write this from my 50th flight in the past year and a half, I can tell you—it’s not as glamorous as it looks. It’s exhausting. Trying to hold everything together while chasing perfection leaves little room for simply being. I set the bar so high for myself that even when I reach it, I question whether it was enough.

But here’s the epiphany: I’m living parts of the dream I once had, just not in the way I envisioned.

The journey has been anything but smooth. It cost me comfort, family, friendships, and the feeling of home as I’ve said goodbye to places and people I loved. Yet, in all that movement and striving, I discovered something I had been chasing in the wrong places: love. The love of those around me, the small moments that make life bearable amidst its messiness. I used to think I did everything alone, but now I see that love has been with me all along.

And now? I’m learning that even when things feel incomplete or imperfect, that’s where the magic happens. This life didn’t unfold by accident—it’s the product of every challenge, every mistake, and every ounce of effort I’ve put in.

As much as I demand perfection, I’m recognizing the beauty in the process. The truth is, nothing about this life happened by chance. The love, the work, the challenges—they’ve all shaped me into someone my ten-year-old self would be proud of. And one day, my future self will look back and thank me, too.

In that same diary, my younger self wrote: Se tu credi in te stesso, non scoraggiarti mai perché sono sicura che un giorno ci riuscirai. "If you believe in yourself, never give up, because I’m sure one day you’ll make it."

That was her reminder to me I guess—and now it’s mine to you: the journey matters more than perfection. Even when it’s messy, even when it feels incomplete, trust that it’s shaping you into the person you’re meant to be.

So, yes, much has changed since that little girl scribbled her dreams into a diary. Becoming who I am has cost me more than she ever imagined. But if I could go back, she’d wink at me with that knowing look that says, we made it.

Lately, I’ve made excuses not to write. I told myself I wasn’t “inspired enough” or didn’t “have time.” It’s funny how quickly we dismiss the things that truly matter to us. I kept waiting for the perfect moment, the right words, the spark that would finally make me feel ready. But life doesn’t wait. And neither does writing. I never intended to write about this. I thought I needed grand, groundbreaking inspiration to put my thoughts into words. But if there’s one person I owe everything to, it’s not some future version of myself who has it all figured out—it’s that little girl. The one sitting with her diary, scribbling dreams that felt so big back then.

She’s the reason I’m still here, still chasing those dreams, still writing, still unboxed. Despite the twists and turns life has thrown my way, she never stopped believing. Now, I realize that real inspiration comes from within. I write not just for her, but for the journey itself—messy, imperfect, and beautifully mine.

It’s never too late to chase what sets your heart racing. After all, if we don’t give our dreams a shot, we might end up with more regrets than “oops” moments. And who wants that? The beauty lies not in perfection but in the growth we experience along the way.

So—what dreams are you holding onto, and how are you navigating the glorious chaos of your own life?

Lots of love,

Elena

P.S.: If you’ve made it this far, thanks & congrats—you’ve officially embraced the glorious chaos of reading my inner thoughts. And just so you know, perfectionism is still a work in progress. If anything seems a little off, just chalk it up to my “creative flair.” (I totally meant to do that, obviously.) Also, ten-year-old me would like to remind you to dream big, wear sunglasses indoors, and always add a dash of sass. After all, life’s too short to take too seriously!