Medellín: A Birthday, A Book, and a City That Intrigued Me

 

I went to Medellín with no expectations. None.

No grand plans, no curated list of “must‑see” places, no pressure to make the trip mean anything. I simply went — open, curious, willing.

And somehow, that was the perfect posture for a city like Medellín.

Because Medellín meets you exactly where you are… and then gently lifts you higher.

Communa 13 was my first lesson.

A place once known for violence, now pulsing with colour, rhythm, and a kind of defiant joy. The people there don’t just survive — they create, they express, they reclaim. Every mural felt like a testimony. Every smile felt like a small revolution. My guide was from the area and we stopped off at his house way up on the mountains, he talked about the pros and cons of gentrification and reminded me that the beginning of the change, the peace that now passes all understanding started with women waving white flags amidst all the shooting saying enough! 

Then Guatapé — bright, bold, unapologetically beautiful.

A town that looks like it was painted by someone who believes deeply in possibility.

What struck me most was the resilience. Not the loud, chest‑beating , the everyday resilience that shows up in how people greet you, how they work, how they laugh, how they keep choosing life. How they remain proud. I climbed 657 steps to get to the top of the Rock and felt like I did something huge!

Medellín is clean.

Not “tourist clean” — genuinely cared for.

The transport system is efficient and affordable. The food is abundant, cheap and comforting. And the feeling of safety… that surprised me. I moved through the city with ease, with trust, with a sense of belonging I didn’t expect.

And the food — oh my word, the food.

Flour and cheese everywhere.

… my whole spirit said yes.

Somewhere between the cable cars, the street art, the mountains, and the meals, I realised something:

I was being quietly renewed.

Maybe it was the altitude.

Maybe it was the kindness of strangers.

Maybe it was the way the city holds its past without letting it define its future.

Or maybe it was because I was reading The Journals of Alice Walker — a book that feels like sitting at the feet of a wise woman who has lived, questioned, loved, and risen. Her words met me at the perfect time. They softened me. They sharpened me. They reminded me of the power of paying attention.

And yes — it was my birthday.

A new year of my life beginning in a city that felt like a mirror: vibrant, layered, healing, honest.

I returned motivated.

Inspired.

Clearer.

More grounded.

Ready.

Medellín gave me a gift I didn’t know I needed:

a reminder that beauty can rise from anything, that joy is a choice, and that life is always inviting us to begin again.

I went with no expectations.

I came back with a full heart.

And that, to me, is the best kind of journey.

Peace and Blessings

__________________________________________________

A Closing Call to Rooted

And if you’re reading this and something in you is whispering, “Yes… I want this too. I want to return to myself,” then I want to invite you into Rooted.

Rooted is the space where we practice this work together — the unlearning, the softening, the truth‑telling, the remembering. It’s where we take off the masks we’ve outgrown and step into the woman we’ve been becoming quietly, patiently, beneath the surface.

If June is your month of authenticity too… If you’re ready to stop shrinking and start showing up whole… If you’re craving real connection, real clarity, real grounding…

Then come sit with us in this circle.

Bring your journal. Bring your heart. Bring the parts of you you’ve been hiding.

We begin again July 2026 — and I would love to have you there, rising in your own truth.

The Rooted Series