Where Are You From?

Spoiler: It’s not a networking event, it’s a personality test.

At a networking event last night:

X: Where are you from?
Me: (I give my usual answer.)
X: Oh, I can tell you’ve traveled. Most people just say their state or “the States.”
Me: Thanks—I left 16 years ago.

That moment stuck with me. There was something in the way he said it—not just the words, but the recognition. Like movement leaves a mark.

It made me think about how long I’ve been untethered from a single place. How I’ve picked up bits of rhythm and language and posture from all over. And how, sometimes, people can sense that before you even speak.

Maybe it’s a kind of accent you develop when you belong to many places—or nowhere at all.

I used to think “Where are you from?” was a simple question. Lately, I hear it as:
What shaped you? What do you carry?

And I’m starting to like that the answer can’t fit in a neat box.

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It’s been a while since I’ve written here, and this moment felt like the right prompt to return.

I’m still walking. Still showing up with whoever comes. Since February 2022, we’ve walked 207 times—and this Monday’s walk will be number 208. We meet twice a week, Mondays and Fridays at 9AM. Some days it’s two of us. Some days it’s twenty. Every time, it’s real.

If you’re in Lisbon and craving conversation that goes beyond surface questions, you’re always welcome to join.

Details here:
Walking in Lisbon on Meetup and lisbon.substack on instagram

And if you’re far away or prefer to wander solo, I hope these notes still feel like a kind of walk—with pauses, turns, and occasional moments of clarity.

So I’ll leave you with this:
When someone asks “Where are you from?”—what do you really want them to know?

Reply here, or better yet—take it with you on your next walk.