My Ibiza Immigration Story

As I am writing this, we just landed in the year of the fire horse. And what a welcome burst of energy it brings.

Portugal at the beginning of my trip

In many ways, the snake energy has silenced me. For the longest time I could not put into words what was happening internally. What I was feeling and especially where I was going… But the time has finally come to share a bit more of my time here in Ibiza.

I moved to Ibiza at the end of 2024, partly by accident (quite literally because of my accident with my camper van). What I am trying to say is that I did not plan it. I did have the dream for the longest time to move out of Holland, but I never thought it was going to be Ibiza. Let alone that it was going to be so soon. Now, 1.5 years later, I do feel that I want to share more about how I ended up here, why, and how this time has been.

To be completely honest, 2025 was a confusing year for me. 2024 was explosive and full of forward movement. My business thrived. I got the possibility to work remotely. I bought a camper van and literally drove in the direction of my dreams. My camper was ofcourse in full Zara Home aesthetic. 2024 was fast, it was colourful, it was pattern breaking. It was the breaking free of a lot of darkness. A shift I had been brewing on for years.

Preparing dinner in my precious Peggy.

The shift I made had been a long time coming.

Years of deep inner work and clarifying where I was headed. And then there was the final step. Everything was working in my favour. Complete forward motion. I went straight ahead and took lots of risks, fully aware and extremely scared at times. I felt unstoppable in many ways. I crused around Europe and felt so good en free, until the tragic event of my accident turned everything around.

It was the end of July. I was one month into my adventure. My trip was supposed to last three months. I was well on my way until my old life suddenly stopped and my new life literally crashed into me. I drove on an N road close to Sevilla and my oncoming driver took his turn almost completely on my side of the road. I had to swerve, lost control over the wheel, and started spinning. Until the camper (and I) crashed into the rails and flipped on the side, on the top, and then back to a standing position.

The weird thing was that this did not hurt. It was like a movie. I could not believe it was real. My thoughts could not follow reality. I refused to accept it. All I was thinking was: no, no, this is not real, I am dreaming. It can’t be real, if it was real I should be in pain. It can’t be real because this means my dream trip has come to an end!

What woke me up from this state was my phone screaming an alarming noise. A friendly, yet urgent AI-configured voice was telling me: “iPhone has detected that you are in a car crash.” This was when I thought, okay, this is real. This is not a dream. This is heartbreakingly, dream-crushingly real…

I stepped out of the camper and the weirdest thing was I could not talk. I felt sort of fine. I felt shaken up, but I did not feel pain. I was not hurt, despite a scratch on my ankle. People approached me to see if I was okay. They could not speak English, I could not speak Spanish. But at that point, I could not speak at all, any language. I was out of breath, and I could not find my words. I could not find the channel in my mind that would allow me to participate in this scene.

I was on the way to an Ayahuasca ceremony, so I thought I needed to first call the facilitators to tell them I have been in a car crash. Meanwhile, I took a good look at the crime scene. My perfectly ready-to-be-featured-in-a-fashion-magazine camper van was completely broken beyond repair.

Mirrors cracked, all my stuff on the highway,

a rip in the window that had cracked open the side of the vehicle. Cupboards broken, my nail polish bottle leaving a bright red stain on the hot asphalt road.

And I, I was weirdly fine. I was in shock, for sure. But luckily I had no serious injuries (physically). Looking back, I did have a major whiplash, but I will come back to that.

Anyhow, this was the moment that changed my course for good. For the first time ever, my courage was stronger than my need for security. I decided that whatever happened, from now on, I was going to choose life! I was going to just live my life and choose what I want, even if it scares me deeply.

So I thought: let’s see if I can make living in Ibiza work. This was not my plan at all. But in that moment I thought, if I want to live abroud, I would want to live in a place where there are many people like me. Where I can make lots of friends and do fun things. I never thought I would go for Ibiza because my image was always that it’s crowded and expensive, the two things I wanted to escape form in Holland.

But there I was, choosing the wild route over any security.

I just figuered in that moment, I could have easely died just now, so lets not act out of fear right now and just go ahead into the direction you really want to go into.

In the fantisies I have always had about my southern life, I saw myself more as the Portugal surf girl. But let’s be honest, I am not. I want a diverse life. I want adventure. I want weirdness. I want the unexpected. Also, I want the luxury. The vibrant chaos. For years I did not want to admit this to myself.

But sitting in front of my completely broken camper van, which I had made so perfect, I just thought: fuck this, I am going to try to make this work. If everything is against me, I will go back to the Netherlands and continue my life. If everything is with me, then this is all supposed to happen and I need to be here. If that is the case, I (try to) trust that I will be carried and protected.

first glimpse of the new world.

So I started this journey filled with adrenaline and fearless power. Which I very much needed in order to make a few very scary decisions. I was by myself. No one to lean on. I had a few social media clients I could work remotely for, but nothing really solid.

Fast forward two months: I had my own apartment in Cala San Vicente. I was so, so happy and extremely excited.

When I settled in, I collapsed completely. A full burnout struck me, and the symptoms kept getting worse. I was extremely anxious and stressed all the time, overwhelmed with uncertainty and frightend by new responsibilities.

I got insecure about myself and my work. There was no time for rest, as I was extremely busy. Meanwhile, the physical symptoms kept worsening: headaches, trouble sleeping, cortisol rising through the roof, brain fog, and no energy at all. My body felt heavy, my hair felt weak, my eyes looked tired in every picture. I was bloated and inflamed. I was a big mess.

The energy and momentum I had felt the year prior were nowhere to be found. It felt like a hard slap in the face. I felt so lost. I was here, my dream had come true. I thought a weight would fall off me and everything would go according to plan. I thought I was going to be carried into success and fulfillment.

It was weird because I was also happy. I was proud of myself. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the nature around me. Cala San Vicente, being so removed from the rest of the island, made me feel like this was not my story’s beginning yet. This was my transition phase, a place of rest.

But I had such a hard time finding rest because I was scared it would all fall apart.

So I tried to give in to the confusion and the feeling that I was not capable and did not know where to start. I wanted to make new friends, but I was overwhelmed and tired all the time.

Looking back, this was of course a logical consequence of a life lived fully in survival mode until that point. Now that there was space to breathe, maybe for the first time ever, all things that had been endured for years wanted to be felt in a big way.

If you think you are there, think again, because there is always the stage of cleansing the old before being able to receive the new.

So I tried to go into this gracefully, without resistance. But to be honest, I felt like I completely lost my power. My old life drifted away, and my new life didn’t want to start yet. I was in the in-between.

I did not know then that this is a common phenomenon upon emigration. First, one must completely collapse before a new structure can be formed.

I think in that moment, I tried very hard to fix my state with a survival-mode strategy. Convincing myself that if I just worked harder, things would get better. This obviously did not work.

A great blessing was that in the midst of all of this, I fell in love. Quickly and deeply. In a more stable way than ever before. This contributed to my regained feeling of safety.

<3

His presence helped me surrender to the not knowing. Helped me return to my body. Because if we are lost, before receiving answers, we must start with our bodies.

I dove into what works for me in terms of diet, movement, rest, nourishment, and most of all: anti-stress. I discovered that I was addicted to the feeling of stress. The feeling of being rushed, the feeling of not being good enough or feeling guilty for being here. Meanwhile, nothing was actually wrong.

An internal crisis in the midst of an external paradise.

I discovered how comfortable I had been in a life that did not make me happy, because the discomfort, longing, hard labour, and suffering matched my inner dialogue. This was a shocking realization.

I finally lived my own mood board: the Mediterranean life, colourful and bright, with my dream partner. But inside, I felt removed from myself, exhausted, and scared.

A Capricorn like me wants plans, answers, spreadsheets, numbers. None of that was happening. I also felt bad for my partner. He met me in a state of desperation and exhaustion. I wanted to show him my powerful self. But I could not find her anymore for the longest time.

So I started doubting everything. Was it a mistake to come here? Should I continue my work? What is my gift? What is my purpose? Why did I end up here? Can I rely on myself?

Finally, around the end of last summer (a year after the accident), I started to surrender. I gave myself a break from searching for answers and instead focused on physical healing. Rest. Releasing the seriousness.

reading “The midnight Library”

Now I must say I understand more about what was and still is happening within me. It is survival mode being unwound. It is recovery. It is letting go of the fight. Letting go of the plans. A field unfamiliar to me, but I am very happy about it. I took me years to get here mentally.

Even if it is still hard at times, I am happy that I finally landed here. A whole new world to discover.

When I was a child, I always wished my life would be like a movie. Adventurous, beautiful, unexpected, Enjoying it and welcomeing the unknown.

I do feel like I am there now, in this childhood fantasy. Of course, somewhat shaken. Of course, still figuring it out. But yes, I can see myself. I can see where I am and what is happening.

I am happy to give up trying to know where things are going. I am happy to let go of the past. I am happy to be open. I am happy to take it slow and take care of all that deserves to be nurtured.

thank you Cala San Vincente to a a breathtaking view at the start of my biggest adventure yet.