The concept of this blog is simple: everyone is made of layers, like an onion.

I could have chosen another metaphor, maybe something more poetic… but the point is that I write because I want to share some of the experiences I’ve had. To survive the change of direction I decided to give my life, I had to let go of many behaviours I once carried with me.

Taking myself too seriously was one of the first attitudes I threw overboard from the sinking ship.

So, let’s stick with the “onion” image. It’s ridiculous and profound at the same time,  like all true things in life.

Is my journey an escape story? Yes, of course it is. And you don’t move fast when you’re a big, fat onion, I swear.

Did I get myself into trouble? And is this the story of how I got out of the trouble I created by myself? Yes, absolutely. Like a prisoner who puts himself in danger just to break free.

Could I have simply stayed in my old life and kept away from risks? I don’t think so. I had this deep instinct for freedom, an almost animal urgency. It was so strong, and at the same time so true, that I could nearly hear its voice pointing out the path to follow — clear and loud.

And so, one day, I jumped.

When I found myself in the water, I thought I could swim. I thought I had a life vest. I thought someone might help me out.
In short, I expected reaching the coast to be easier.

But the moment I touched the water, I understood very clearly: none of that would happen.

Still, there was this voice in my head saying: “Claudia, you can swim, right? So don’t panic. You’re alone, but you’ll make it.” And that’s exactly what I did: I swam.

In the beginning, I moved like a war machine, precise, determined, almost professional. It looked effortless:
Right arm, left arm, head out — breathe.
Right arm, left arm, head out — breathe.
You see?

But after a while, it became more about survival: just keep your head above water, keep moving your arms, don’t stop.

And then… I transformed again. I was no longer a machine. I wasn’t even a swimmer. I moved like a jellyfish, soft, clumsy, stubborn, floating between fear and instinct.

And yet, somehow, I survived.