Visas Approved: The Beginning of the End (and a New Beginning)

The phone rang. It was the consulate. And just like that—we were approved.

After weeks of uncertainty and holding our breath, this one short call opened a door we’ve been knocking on for months. The relief came in waves—first disbelief, then laughter, then tears. We’re officially moving to Portugal.

It’s the news we’ve been waiting for—hoping for, planning around, yet never fully certain we’d reach. And now, here it is: the move is officially happening. We are going. We are allowed to go.

And while the logistics continue—the sorting, the packing, the selling, the goodbyes—emotionally, I’m feeling the ending of this life more than anything else. It’s like being pushed toward a cliff at a slow but relentless pace I have no control over. I’m excited, don’t get me wrong—but I don’t have any personal reference point for what comes next. I’ve barely moved out of state, never mind across an ocean. We’re just 11 days away from getting on that plane, and while I feel this life wrapping up with an eerie clarity, when I try to imagine the next one… I can’t. The future feels like a big black box. But the thing is—we’ve already jumped. There’s nothing left to do but brace for the landing.

It’s hard to explain the feeling. Relief, definitely. Gratitude. Excitement. And something quieter—a stillness that comes when a long-held hope finally lands and becomes part of your actual life.

There’s been so much doing these past months: sorting, organizing, scanning, notarizing, booking, selling, donating, saying goodbye. Every day has been full of lists and tasks and doubts and hopes. The logistics of closing down one life while preparing for the next is a unique kind of chaos. And in that chaos, it’s easy to forget that something entirely new is about to begin—whether we’re ready or not.

And while we’re thrilled, we’re also grieving. We are leaving behind a home, a community, a language, a culture, a country that shaped us—even as it pushed us out. We’re watching as American democracy weakens further by the day, as authoritarianism creeps into the mainstream, as fascism is no longer on the margins but on the ballot… will there even be ballots much longer? That grief runs deep—because we love what this country could be. But we also have children to protect, and our own well-being to preserve.

We are selling cars and finalizing our packing. We’re hugging people we won’t see for a long time. We’re saying goodbye to a version of our lives that we worked really hard to build. And oh. Is it hard to do.

But this is also a birth story. Of a new way of living. A slower pace. More family time. A chance to build something that feels more aligned, more connected, more free. Our new life is still forming, but the idea that it can be anything we want is exhilarating. This visa is more than a permission slip—it’s a passage.

And in 11 days, we walk through it.