Home is a Calm Brain

Photo from Stills

Ayooluwa

You might expect this story to begin with a lifelong dream of living abroad and a carefully mapped-out plan. Instead, Ayooluwa’s begins with a moment of curiosity, a TikTok video, and a decision that would change everything. 

"I moved to Spain because I love the language and wanted to explore the world," she says. "And then I saw a very good-looking guy speaking Spanish on TikTok. Very pleasant to the ears, and that confirmed it had to be Spain."

It's an unexpected beginning. And perhaps that's the point. What followed was a series of unexpected turns. 

The first months were filled with the intensity of starting over: navigating a new city, a new culture, a language she was still finding her footing in, and a system she was learning. 

There was no dramatic crisis. Just the rhythm of starting over. And figuring out one small thing at a time, how to belong somewhere new. 

It did not happen all at once. It rarely does. 

Spain began to feel like home when the Spanish words started coming more naturally, when conversation stopped feeling like work and started feeling like herself. It deepened when she found her footing in a Nigerian community in the city. 

"Spain has and will forever be home to me," she says. "It's blissful, happy, and a safe space for me."

She had started, in her own words, to build a life there. The kind of life that asks you to stay. 

Then came Germany. 

"Germany was never on my radar, at least not consciously, but I guess life has a way of causing a detour that you eventually realise, in hindsight, was a necessary detour."

It was not an easy decision. But it was, she says, the only decision. And she had moved once before, which meant she carried something the first move had given her: the knowledge that she had done hard things and come through them. 

Still, the second move was heavier. She had been comfortable in Spain in a way that made leaving genuinely painful. She had left just as she had begun to feel settled. The German stereotypes loomed and the grey skies did not help.

A few days before her departure from Spain however, she signed up to run at a sports event for the Nigerian community in her new German city. The event was two weeks after her move. It was a small, deliberate act. A way of making herself accountable to showing up somewhere before she had fully arrived. 

“I have the spirit of, 'If I did it once, I can do it again.’’

Across every border, she has carried the same things: internal joy. Resilience. A confidence that has grown with each move. She has learned to be genuinely comfortable in her own company. 

She has also learned to leave things behind. Fear, most of all. 

"I have experienced and realised that it always gets clearer with each step. Fear is just an obstacle created by us to rewire ourselves into halting an action."

When asked how she builds community in a new place, she is refreshingly honest. 

"I am the wrongest person to answer," she laughs. 

But what has worked for her is simple: finding a gathering that fits who she is and showing up.

For her, that has been the church. 

Home, for Ayooluwa, is no longer a fixed address. It is a feeling she has learned to locate and, when necessary, to build. 

"Home is where I think of and I am filled with instant smiles. Home is where my brain is calm enough to shut down and not be super alert."

By that measure, Spain is still home, held together by the friends who make her feel covered. But she has also made room for more than one answer. She has decided she is allowed to. 

"I have grown to understand that I can have as many homes as I please."

To the woman standing at the edge of a big move: scared, ready, or somewhere between the two Ayooluwa does not offer a system or a strategy.

She offers the only thing she knows to be true from the other side of her own fear. 

"Joy is at the other side of fear. Go for it."