Stepping off the plane in Cape Town after more than two years away felt like exhaling a breath that had been held far too long. In less than a week, this city has gently—but firmly—reminded me who I am, where I come from, and why holding two countries in my heart is both confusing and the greatest gift.
Returning to Cape Town
There is something about seeing Table Mountain again that feels like opening an old, much‑loved book and finding yourself right where you left off. The light, the ocean, the familiar accents and rhythms of daily life here have become the backdrop for a quiet personal reset.
On returning, the intention was simple yet profound: to recalibrate. Away from deadlines, campaigns, and the day-to-day grind, Cape Town offers space to listen—to the waves, to the wind, and to that inner voice so easy to drown out in Tampa’s rush of everyday life.
A Week of Relearning Myself
In just a few days, the city has become a mirror, reflecting parts of myself that had gone a little blurry. As an expat, it is easy to live in “in‑between mode,” never fully here or there, always mentally packing a suitcase.
Yet this visit so far has taught me:
- That familiarity can be healing; walking streets I know reminds me how far I have come, personally and professionally.
- That distance brings clarity; time away from my “normal” life gives perspective on what truly matters and what can be let go.
- That I am allowed to hold multiple versions of myself—the girl who grew up here and the woman building a life and career in Florida.
Embracing Heritage and Identity
Being back on South African soil reconnects me with my roots in a way that nothing else can. The smells, the sounds, the humour, the small cultural nuances—they all remind me that my heritage is not something behind me; it is something I actively carry.
Leaning into this has become an act of self‑acceptance. It means allowing the softness that comes from community and history to sit alongside the ambition and forward drive that shape not only my work as a strategist, but also the way I show up in my relationships, care for myself, and make choices about the life I am building between two homes.
Rugby, Belonging, and the Beat of Home
Going to watch a rugby game at Cape Town Stadium felt like tapping straight into South Africa’s heartbeat. The electric buzz walking up to the stadium, the sea of Stormers and Bulls supporters waving their flags, the singing from somewhere deep in the chest, and the knowledge that many of the players on the field were Springboks—it all wrapped around me in a way that was both familiar and overwhelming, like being held by an entire nation at once.
For South Africans, rugby is so much more than a sport; it is memory, identity, and collective pride stitched into 80 minutes. The roar after a try, strangers hugging in the stands, the shared tension in the final minutes—these are the moments that remind me how powerful it is to belong to something bigger than myself.
What moves me most is knowing that this passion travels. South Africans all over the world will wake up at impossible hours, rearrange their days, and gather in living rooms and bars just to watch a match together, recreating a little pocket of home wherever they are.
Whether in Cape Town Stadium or on a couch in Tampa surrounded by fellow expats, rugby becomes a thread that ties my two worlds together, reminding me that no matter where I am, a piece of my heart is always cheering in unison with people who feel this game in their bones.
Two Places, One Heart
Calling both Cape Town and Tampa “home” can be disorienting. There are days when it feels like I am always missing someone, or some version of life, no matter where I am.
But there is a quiet magic in this duality:
- It stretches my perspective; I am constantly seeing life through multiple lenses, cultures, and markets.
- It deepens my empathy; knowing what it feels like to leave, return, and belong in more than one place helps me understand people—and audiences—better.
- It offers creative fuel; the contrast between these two worlds sparks new ideas in how I think about storytelling, strategy, and connection.
“Home, it turns out, is not a single location pinned on a map, but a collection of places, people, and moments that have shaped me. The confusion of loving two homes is real, but so is the privilege of having more than one place that welcomes me back like I never left.”
Returning to Tampa, Renewed
As this visit unfolds, knowing I still have two more weeks here in South Africa shifts everything about how I think about returning to Tampa. This time will be spent soaking up slow days with family and the lifelong friends who know me in a way no one else can, celebrating my birthday and my brother’s birthday together in the childhood place that first shaped us.
Personally, these extra weeks give me more space to build intentional pauses into my life, to honour my roots in real time, and to let the joy and grounding that comes from shared celebrations sink in deeply before I step back into my Florida routine.
Professionally, this extended reconnection reignites my passion for strategic thinking rooted in lived human experience—the kind that remembers every customer, like every expat, carries their own layered story of where they come from, who they love, and what “home” means to them.
Living between two homes will probably always be a little confusing. Still, these weeks—in the laughter, the birthdays, the everyday moments with my people—are showing me that the in‑between is also where my most significant growth, creativity, and sense of wholeness live.
When I return to Tampa, it will not be to “business as usual,” but to work and life infused with a fuller heart, a steadier sense of identity, and a renewed commitment to carry this gift into every campaign, conversation, and chapter still to come.
