Every day, for the entire month, I would find one thing I was grateful for and write about it.

I called it The Gratitude Project.

There weren’t really any rules. It didn’t have to be profound or incredibly meaningful. I just had to think of one thing every day.

I think the lack of rules actually slowly became my favorite part.

Some days, gratitude came super easily.

Other days, it could be a challenge to think of something that impacted my day & I would need to think more than normal about something that, in theory, should come so naturally.

But through holding myself accountable, I began to find that every day was teaching me more than I could have expected.

Gratitude isn’t always profound.

When we talk about gratitude, it’s always about the big things.

Family.

Health.

Love.

Friendship.

Having a roof over our head.

Of course I’m grateful for those things, some were even incorporated into my challenge.

But when you’re doing a month of gratitude, those profound ones can’t make up every single day & suddenly, I became more interested in the little things that we often don’t think about.

Air conditioning in the Florida heat.

A slow morning.

A walk with my mom.

Finding a Slim Aaron’s book I had been searching for.

My dogs.

A beautiful sunset.

Even my curly hair, something I spent years of my life trying to change about myself.

Some things I wrote about probably seemed insignificant. But honestly— maybe that was the point?

A good life isn’t made exclusively from unforgettable, big moments.

Most of it is made from extremely ordinary Tuesday’s.

There’s so much worth in appreciating those as well.

Gratitude isn’t the same as happiness.

In fact, one of the biggest things I learned was finding gratitude, even on the days that felt a little bit heavier.

There were definitely days where gratitude wasn’t the first emotion I felt.

There were days I felt impatient.

Days filled with uncertainty.

Days that didn’t happen the way I thought they would.

& still, I had to find something.

First, it was hard.

Almost contradictory and made me question the process as a whole.

Then I relaxed — it really wasn’t contradictory and perhaps… I was putting too much pressure on myself & the whole experiment.

You can be frustrated and grateful.

You can be waiting for something you desperately want and appreciate what you already have.

You can feel incredibly sad about one part of your life and feel extremely lucky in another part.

You can have no idea what will come next and still find something beautiful about where you are now.

Gratitude can’t erase hard emotions.

But it does give something for it to sit beside.

The things we often overlook are usually the things we would miss the most.

Let’s be honest, writing a post on air conditioning isn’t really groundbreaking.

But it did end up becoming a post & it did make me realize one thing.

While that’s not something completely profound to me, it can be to someone else in the world.

Same goes for so much of life.

The person you call without thinking twice.

Your favorite breakfast in the morning.

Your body carrying you around the neighborhood.

A dog waiting for you at home.

Trying something you never have done before.

We become accustomed to our lives, we forget to stop and appreciate all that is around us.

Gratitude can be looking at that familiarity & seeing something new, while you think to yourself—

Wait. This is actually really nice.

I started looking for gratitude before I began writing about it.

This was kind of unexpected.

At the beginning, I had to think more.

By the end, I began noticing more through the day.

I would be walking, having a conversation, cooking, looking at the sky or just having an everyday day moment and think to myself—

This could be today’s gratitude.

Without thinking, I began to train my mind to look for things I appreciate.

Then suddenly, this project that began as a simple experiment slowly began to become so much more to me.

I don’t think good things began to only occur after this month.

I think I was just getting better at seeing what was in front of me all along.

So, 31 days later — now what?

When I started The Gratitude Project, I just thought it would be another fun challenge.

31 posts. 31 things.

Easy enough.

But somehow, this challenge has allowed me to tap into myself in a new way. It became about changing how I moved through every day, during a time where I have been trying to reacquaint with who I am.

I don’t think I’ll wake up every day with an immense sense of gratitude.

I’m still going to complain.

I’m still going to get impatient.

I’m still going to have days where things get under my skin & nothing feels profound.

But I think this can serve as a reminder to myself that even on those days that seem to feel harder than the others, there usually is at least one thing.

Sometimes it’s big.

Sometimes it someone you love.

Sometimes it’s something you have waited years for.

And sometimes, it’s something incredibly simple.

So allow this to be a kind reminder to everyone, once you start looking, you tend to find more to be grateful for than you may think.

Lots of love,

Alyssa

🩵

“If your house was on fire and you only had a few minutes to grab your most valuable possessions, what would you take & why?”

It’s one of those questions that’s often talked about around a dinner table during a dinner party or during a long car ride where you’re trying to figure out fun conversation topics.

Most people answer almost instantly.

A passport.

A laptop.

Important documents.

Jewelry.

Their pets.

Maybe a childhood stuffed animal.

The things we can’t replace.

But I don’t think the question is really about what you’d save.

I think it’s about what you value.

Earlier this year, I found myself packing my life into a carry-on suitcase.

Not because of a fire.

Not because I was moving.

Not because I was going on holiday.

Because I had to leave.

Suddenly, every decision carried weight.

Every item had to earn its place.

For years, I’d spent my life collecting things. Clothes I’d saved for special occasions. Books I’d promised myself I’d read again. Kitchen gadgets I’d convinced myself I’d use more often. Little decorations that slowly transformed four walls into something that felt like home.

Then, in the space of a few hours, almost all of it became… optional.

It’s funny how quickly “I need this” turns into “I’ll be okay without it.”

What surprised me wasn’t what I left behind.

It was what I couldn’t.

The things that made it into my suitcase weren’t necessarily the most expensive, the newest, or even the prettiest.

They were the things that carried pieces of my life.

The items that couldn’t simply be replaced with a trip to the store.

A passport isn’t just a booklet of stamps.

A piece of jewelry isn’t always about its value.

A notebook isn’t just paper.

Sometimes they’re reminders of where we’ve been, who we love, or the versions of ourselves we like to be reminded of.

We spend so much of our lives accumulating.

More clothes.

More furniture.

More decorations.

More things.

We tell ourselves they’ll make a place feel like home.

But when you reduce your entire life to what you can carry, something shifts.

You realize that home was never really the sofa.

Or the closet filled with clothes.

Or the perfectly styled bookshelf.

Home is memory.

Home is meaning.

Home is the handful of things that quietly remind you who you are.

Sometimes I think we wait for dramatic moments to teach us what matters.

A fire.

A flood.

An emergency.

But maybe we don’t have to.

Maybe we can ask ourselves the question now and actually stop to consider what we might leave behind.

If the world went upside down tomorrow, what would you reach for without a second thought?

And what would that choice say about you?

Perhaps the things we choose to carry aren’t just our possessions—they’re the proof of who we’ve been and where we want to go.

Maybe that’s true of more than our belongings. Maybe all the things, literal & metaphorical, we carry through life should earn their place too.

Because, I have a feeling the answer of what we take says more about our lives than everything we leave behind.

So, if you only had a few minutes, what would make it into your carry-on…and why?

Let me know in the comments. I’m looking forward to reading your answers.

Lots of love,

Alyssa

🩵

For some people, it’s easy. It’s the house they grew up in, the streets they know by heart, the supermarket where they can find everything without thinking twice.

I’ve never really had that.

I’ve lived in seven countries, more houses than I am years old, and I grew up between two cultures as both Danish and American.

We stayed just long enough in each to learn the shortcuts, make friends who felt like family, and create routines that slowly stopped feeling temporary.

Every place eventually became home.

And then we would leave.

People often ask me where I’m from.

It’s never a simple answer.

Do I tell them where I was born? That would be Sweden, but I’m not Swedish…

Where I grew up? Mainly South Florida… but a portion of my childhood was in Asia where I made friends I still stay in touch with (shout out to Chloe).

Or the place that shaped me the most? All of them did in one way or another.

For years, I joked that I am from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Because the truth is, none of those answers ever feel completely right. And depending on my season of life, my answers sometimes changes.

Because when you’ve moved enough, home stops becoming one place.

It’s a collection of places.

Sometimes I’ll miss my favorite yoga in Dubai while sitting in Florida.

I’ll crave a cardamom bun from my favorite bakery in Copenhagen while walking through New York.

I’ll hear someone’s accent in an airport and immediately feel a strange sense of familiarity and “home.”

Little pieces of different countries seem to follow me everywhere I go.

And I love that.

But there’s another side to it.

When every place has been home, nowhere feels entirely permanent.

You become good at arriving.

You know how to make friends.

You know how to unpack a suitcase.

You know how to build a routine.

But a small part of you is always wondering how long this chapter will last.

Sometimes I envy people who have one hometown.

I suppose the closest to that for me would be South Florida.

But truthfully, I feel like I have pieces of myself scattered across the world.

A version of me exists in Dubai.

Another in Thailand.

Another even in North Carolina.

They’re all me.

They’re just different chapters.

For a long time, I thought that meant I didn’t belong anywhere.

Now I am beginning to think it means I belong in more places than I ever realized.

Maybe home isn’t somewhere you find once.

Maybe it’s something you carry.

It’s every person who made you feel welcome.

Every place that taught you something.

Every area that changed you just enough that you couldn’t leave as the same.

I still don’t know what I’ll call home ten years from now.

But maybe that’s okay.

Because after moving as much as I have, I’ve realized that home was never just a destination.

Perhaps it’s that you realize that home often means more than one place.

What a gift it is to look around the world and know that pieces of your heart belong in so many corners of it.

Tell me more about what home is to you in the comments.

I’d love to hear more.

lots of love,

Alyssa

Not quite where you were anymore.
Not quite where you’re going.

For the longest time, I thought life would follow a neat little timeline. You graduate, build your career, settle down, and in some way life gets all figured out.

And in a big way, about a year ago, I thought I had it all sorted.

I had the degree, I was living abroad, I was traveling constantly, I had what I called at the time the “perfect” relationship and I had the dream job. Life was going according to plan.

But life surprised me in unexpected ways & I’ve learned that some chapters end before you’re ready for them to.

Now I’m thirty-one, living between New York and Florida, in a new more aligned relationship, rebuilding my career, and asking myself questions.

And honestly?

I’m learning a lot about myself and how I am viewing life.

There’s freedom in not having all the answers.

Instead of chasing a finish line, I’m learning to enjoy the process. To book the weekend trip. To try the tiny neighborhood café. To cook something new just because. To say yes to dinner with old friends.

The older I get, the more I realize that a beautiful life isn’t built through all the milestone moments that we grow up thinking make us important.

It’s built through ordinary Tuesdays.

It’s the recipe you make to put a smile on the faces of the people you love.

It’s the hotel that changes the way you think about travel.

It’s the conversation that lingers long after you’ve left the restaurant.

It’s the evening dog walk where nothing extraordinary happens except that feeling inside of how lucky you are to have that apart of your daily routine.

That’s what I want this space to become.

A collection of places, stories, recommendations, and reflections on life’s little moments.

Maybe you’re also starting over.
Maybe you’re dreaming about your next trip.
Maybe you’re simply looking for inspiration.

If you’re going through something similar, I hope this brings you some peace in knowing that you are not alone.

I have been challenging myself to view every challenge as a gift.

Every time I am frustrated or asking the question “why me”, I am working on reframing it as “what a gift that I have the opportunity to learn something from this experience.”

Let me know below what season of life you’re in, I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of Love,

Alyssa

🤍

I’ve spent most of my career creating experiences in the world of jewelry—curating events/gifting campaigns, building client trips, and finding beauty in the little details.

To everyone, it was glamorous: international travel, beautiful brands, unforgettable moments. Admittedly, most of it was.

But life tends to have other plans.

Over the past few years, I’ve found myself navigating career shifts, heartbreak, unexpected adventures, moving to new cities (planned & unplanned), unexpected love, getting certified in the wellness space, and the often messy process of figuring out what comes next.

This is where I’d like to share it.

Here you can expect reflections on relationships, my career journey, wellness without the perfectionism, travel, books worth reading, navigating change, and the small moments that make life meaningful.

I don’t have all the answers. In fact, most days I’m still figuring things out myself.

But there’s value in documenting the journey—especially the parts that don’t make it onto Instagram (or as I like to call it, the “highlight reel”).

If you’re interested in thoughtful conversations about work, love, personal growth, travel, and figuring out life, you’re in the right place.

Thank you for joining my journey & I hope you follow along.

Lots of Love,

Alyssa