After everything that’s happened, people sometimes ask why I don’t just move away — start fresh somewhere else.
But the truth is, I already have everything I need to rebuild right here.

I’m not running.
I’m reclaiming my ground.

In El Portet and Denia, I’ve built a circle that keeps me anchored and protected.
I have police support ensuring my physical safety, a local psychologist guiding me through trauma recovery and emotional regulation, and a community that reminds me what normal life feels like — friends, a choir, and the gymthat help restore rhythm, routine, and trust.

This is what trauma-informed recovery truly looks like:
Safety. Stability. Belonging.
The three foundations that help the nervous system heal from fear and hypervigilance.

Meanwhile, he has no roots.
According to the Guardia Civil, he drifts between several different addresses — never settling, never still.
He complains about Spain: the heat, the expense, the culture.
If he dislikes it so much, he could go anywhere.
Yet instead of moving on, he circles — obsessively — trying to destabilize the one person who finally said no.

That’s not love.
That’s control.

So I stay.
Because this place — my home — is where I’m safest, supported, and seen.
Because healing doesn’t come from running; it comes from standing firm in the life you’ve rebuilt.
And every time I walk through town, surrounded by people who care, I’m reminded:
I’m not the one who needs to move.

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