I have a little confession… well… you see… I’m a hybrid of sorts.

Half Welsh and half Australian.

It makes for an interesting mix. Never the perfect fit in either. Cast adrift into a realm of not quite completely.

I think it may explain my moments of well… being me. From my yearning to immerse myself in the magical woodlands of the Welsh countryside; where I’d daydream about sharing a cup of tea with the faery folk of the forest, to desperately needing to ground myself in the rolling sky blue waves and sun drenched sands of the Australian coastline. Both are mutually exclusive. Yet both of them are part of me.

Maybe it’s the old energy of the land, but there will always be a magic in my heart that makes me feel whole when I immerse myself in a Welsh forest. It fills my soul with complete harmony. Well it did… until a series of rather unfortunate events occurred. Generations of family lineage lost in the blink of an eye. I won’t bore you with the sordid details as that would be tacky, and quite frankly not good for manifesting any positive vibes for my head space or for you to indulge in. Ha.

The thing about being a hybrid is that I’m not particularly passionate about either country’s culturally represented identities. I’ve found my own path, taking parts and ad libbing the rest while travelling the journey of life.

I’ve realised that the moment you become completely comfortable within yourself, is the moment you allow yourself to live, learn and breathe anywhere in the world.

Here’s to all the hybrids of the world!

Cheers to you.

love from the happy hybrid. xo


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