Spain’s Lessons of Self-Discovery

Ten years ago, I made the bold decision to swap the grey skies of London for the sun-kissed shores of Spain. At that time, I was immersed in the high-stakes world of investment banking, enveloped by the relentless buzz of the trading floor. But my heart yearned for more.

A Childhood Vision

Since I was a child, I have been obsessed with words, so journalism was a natural choice for me to study at university. Pouring my soul into every essay, my dream of writing for a living came true when I secured a job at National Geographic. Specializing in conservation and travel, it was a lifelong ambition fulfilled. However, fate, as it often does, veered me off course.

After two years at National Geographic, I was headhunted into investment banking—a world far removed from the creativity and freedom I cherished. My days on the trading floor in Canary Wharf’s Citibank often began at 7 a.m., and stretched long past 8 p.m. as I oversaw more than 30 demanding traders and a formidable managing director. Needless to say, it was relentless and exhausting work.

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I caught the train before the sun rose and returned home long after it had set, spending weekends recovering from the monotony of my routine. Despite a more than healthy salary, my only solace came from my two newly adopted kittens, Lily and Fenton, whose gentle purrs offered fleeting comfort in a city that grew ever more obscure.

I couldn’t help but wonder: Is this really the life I’m meant to live?

Dreaming of Escape

For anyone who has tolerated England’s suffocating seasons and tireless rain, you’ll understand how deeply it can seep into every facet of your soul. Here I was in a city that I had lived in all of my life, but one that did not feel like mine or gave my life much meaning.

For a year, I meticulously planned my escape, which meant moving back in with my parents to save every penny I could, much to their bewilderment. My father, who had emigrated from West Africa at age 17 in search of a “better life,” had always believed the UK to be the land of opportunity. To him, my decision to leave a high-paying corporate job to “follow a dream” seemed absurd.

Scanning the map and my memories, I chose Ibiza in Spain’s idyllic Balearic Islands. This, as you guessed, only added fuel to my father’s apprehension since in his mind it was a party animal paradise overrun by drunken tourists. However, I had glimpsed another side of the island during a rare holiday years before—its tranquil north, rolling hills, and hidden beaches. I envisioned a life of beauty, nature, and creativity for myself, as well as my kittens, who had only ever known the confines of a tiny flat in South East London and, more recently, my childhood bedroom, frozen in time upon my return.

The Journey to Freedom

The year leading up to my move was filled with excitement. Knowing there was an end to my corporate life gave me a renewed sense of purpose. When the time came, I crammed my belongings into my car and me and my cats drove from London to Spain, passing through France to reach the port of Valencia. From there, a ferry carried us to Ibiza.

The journey was not without drama—near Barcelona, thieves targeted my car, faking a flat tire to steal my handbag. Though shaken, the adrenaline only spurned my determination to see this new chapter through.

Ibiza: A New Beginning

My early years in Ibiza were exhilarating. I settled in the picturesque town of Santa Eulalia popular with fellow expats such as myself, and quickly landed a dream job as an editor for an award-winning publication. I submerged myself in the slow, sunlit rhythms of island life.

Yet, over time, I began to feel disconnected from the broader culture of the island. My father’s initial warnings weren’t entirely without merit. While its natural beauty was undeniable, the party-centric lifestyle of much of the island did not resonate with me. So, after three years, I set my sights on the neighboring island of Mallorca known for its more cosmopolitan vibe.

Mallorca: Mountains and Milestones

Mallorca, with its dramatic mountains, historic towns, and azure coastlines, was a revelation. I fell in love with its landscapes, its cuisine, and its vibrant culture. Here, I took up running, conquering my first half marathon as I explored the island’s winding trails. Professionally, Mallorca also became a turning point in my life as I founded my own editorial agency. Working with renowned publications and newspapers across the country, life felt rich and fulfilling in a perfect blend of inspiration and adventure.

Managing the layers of admin involved in starting a business in Spain wasn’t easy, but the Spanish lessons that I took during my first years in the country made the process far less daunting.

Yet, when the world came to a standstill during the COVID-19 pandemic, I found myself stifled within a modest apartment in the heart of Palma, Mallorca’s capital, prompting me to seek, at least, a temporary refuge in Menorca.

Menorca’s unspoiled beauty and tranquil charm felt like a dream, but its quiet winters left me longing for the energy of a bustling city; single and with no one or place to bind me, Madrid called my name.

Madrid: The Heart of Spain

Madrid was a city of contrasts and vibrancy. Its grand boulevards and hidden alleys pulsed with life. I immersed myself in its artistic community, attending workshops, joining writing groups, and collaborating on creative projects that celebrated the city’s eclectic culture. The capital’s blend of tradition and innovation felt like a mirror of my own journey, and I thrived in its embrace.

However, when I discovered both my parents needed serious operations, I knew I had to act. Having followed my lead in leaving London, they now had settled in The Gambia, one of Africa’s smallest countries. As you would assume, this chapter perhaps deserves its own follow-up story (coming to you soon!). Though it meant leaving my beloved Spain behind, the choice was clear—I would care for them, just as they had always done for me, when the time was right. As they say in Spain, “volveré!”, I would be back.

Barcelona: Finding My Happy Place

Fast forward 18 months, and I do indeed find myself back in Spain, this time in Barcelona. This city feels like the culmination of my story. Its architecture—a blend of Gothic charm and Gaudí’s surreal creations—inspires me daily. Its vibrant yet relaxed energy offers the perfect balance formed through an international community with residents from over 120 countries, adding a rich tapestry of cultures and perspectives. Here, I also found the love of my life, and the region of Catalunya feels like the home I’ve always been searching for.

Lessons in Self-Discovery

Looking back, my journey through England and Spain has been one of transformation, resilience, and self-discovery. From the high-pressure world of investment banking to the creative freedom of writing, I’ve learned to embrace change, navigate challenges, and most importantly, to follow my heart. If a place doesn’t feel right, and your vision is strong enough, remember that you have the power to move on without hesitation.

Spain didn’t just give me a new home—it gave me a new perspective. It taught me to savor the present, find beauty in simplicity, and trust every path.

As I sit on my sofa with my cat curled up beside me and I cradle a cup of English tea in my hands. It’s a scene of quiet normalcy, the kind of moment I might have experienced had I stayed in London. Yet, everything feels profoundly different. Through the window, the skyline of Barcelona unfolds before me, a constant reminder of the life I chose to build. This home, this peace, is the result of following my heart to where it truly wanted to be.

Home, I’ve come to realize, is not a place—it’s a feeling. And here, in this moment, I feel it completely.

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Isha Sesay is Escape Artist’s Associate Editor. Born in London, she has spent the past decade living and working across the globe, and now calls Barcelona, Spain, home.