One morning last December, I woke up, packed a bag, and had my husband drop me off at the airport. I had booked a flight, but when I got there, I didn’t board it.
Instead, I sat down in the airport café, spending hours trying to understand what I had just done and what was going to happen from that point on.
The plan I came up with: taking a taxi to a pub in Swords, the only place I was familiar with around Dublin. I asked for a room to stay in for a week. And then I simply dropped my bags, hung the ‘do not disturb’ sign outside the door, closed the door behind me, and went to bed.
Not a soul in the world knew where I was. And I had no idea what was happening to me.
Continue Reading on Substack here:
