However, after finishing high school, life brought me back to Venezuela (even though it was not my true desire), where I studied Systems Engineering. This career allowed me to grow professionally from a young age, work in technology, and, most importantly, meet the love of my life, with whom I have shared my journey since I was 20 (through both dating and marriage).

My story has also been shaped by difficult trials: the passing of my maternal grandfather, followed just three and a half years later by the sudden death of my father at age 48, when I was only 23—my greatest mentor and guide—and three years after that, my maternal grandmother’s battle with ovarian cancer, during which she gifted me her last years and many profound conversations before departing. These moments taught me that life is not a straight line, but a rollercoaster of joys and losses, and that faith and resilience are the most powerful tools to keep moving forward. I learned that even in the midst of pain, there are hidden gifts, such as strengthened bonds, lessons of love, and the certainty that every experience shapes who we are.

At 30, I moved to Montreal with my husband, reigniting the dream of migration that had been planted in my childhood. The first few years were not easy; just four months after arriving, we faced a severe economic crisis that triggered my first panic attacks. It was a period filled with uncertainty but also awakening: we learned to see life with new eyes, to savour the simplest things, and to strengthen our bond as a couple despite the challenges. Through the setbacks, I realized that emigrating was not starting from scratch, but starting from experience, carrying all that I had learned with me.

My thirties were a whirlwind of learning: I studied Computer Graphics, a blend of graphic design and web development, explored different professional paths across industries, and eventually returned to my roots in technology sales, where I grew to lead a team and travel across Latin America. Those years were intense and challenging, yet they revealed my adaptability and resilience. After five years in the corporate world, that chapter closed, opening an unexpected opportunity: the space to pause, heal, and reconnect with myself through therapy and introspection.

Now, at 41, I am living a different chapter more conscious, with a renewed perspective on the future. I understand that what is often called the “midlife crisis” is, in reality, a gift: a reminder that nothing is set in stone and that reinvention is always possible. I am focused on two new projects that excite me deeply, convinced that what truly matters is not external titles or achievements, but the essence we cultivate within. That backpack of experiences, losses, triumphs, and lessons is what accompanies me—and it is the only thing that truly stays with me wherever life takes me.

If someone is reading this story and has not yet reached 40, I invite you to look inward and reflect on what you have truly built within yourself. I am not talking about the money you have earned, the degrees you have obtained, or the jobs you have held—because all of that passes. What remains is the essence of each human being: what you know, what you have learned, your experiences, and the strength you have developed. That inner backpack, full of life experiences and skills, will always accompany you and allow you to face every new challenge with confidence, applying every lesson life has given you at exactly the right moment.