On April 22nd, it will be one year since my mother passed away… and I have to tell you, some days it feels like it was yesterday. Other days, it feels like I’ve lived ten different lives since then. I guess that’s how grief works… it messes with your sense of time and your soul.

This year has been hard. Not just because I miss her deeply, but because I’ve realized something: I’ve spent more than six years taking care of others. Taking care of her, taking care of my children… and somewhere along the way, without even noticing, I lost myself.

And of course, when you stop being “fun and games,” when you’re no longer the entertaining one, the available one, the one who’s always there… it seems you stop being interesting. Some friendships faded away. Or maybe I was the one who faded… I’m not entirely sure.

The truth is, I let myself go. I forgot who I was. I gave everything I had to keep my children’s lives stable and to make sure my mother’s last years were peaceful… and I would do it all over again, without hesitation. But the price I paid was losing myself.

And now I’m in full “has anyone seen Nuria?” mode.
I’m looking everywhere… but honestly, I have to admit I chose a very good hiding spot, because there’s absolutely no trace of me. No breadcrumbs. No GPS. Nothing.

I want to find myself, I really do. But it’s not easy. And it doesn’t help that there aren’t many people left saying, “hey, do you want help finding yourself?” It feels like I’ve officially entered “invisible mode.”

And maybe it’s true… maybe when a woman reaches a certain age, she disappears from the radar.
Although, to be fair, with the extra kilos I’ve got right now, disappearing actually takes talent. I mean, I’m basically an emotional ninja… XL version.

That said, there is one place where I am still seen: on set.
And by those amazing creative students who call me, trust me, and even thank me for being part of their projects… when really, I should be the one thanking them for seeing me.

Because right now, they’re some of the few people who truly do.

My family and my partner find me too… from time to time. But the best part is, they let me go back into hiding. I’m not sure if it’s because they respect my process… or because they’re thinking, “let her stay there a bit longer, she’ll come out eventually.”

So here I am. Lost… but not completely. Invisible… but with moments in the spotlight.
Looking for myself. No rush… but no pause either.

I think that, after this past year, I’m finally starting to understand where I am… and that I don’t want to hide again. I think I’m almost ready to come out. I’ll keep searching for myself, yes… but I’m also going to ask myself for courage to face my present and my future.

It has been a very hard year in every possible way, but I know I have to come out of hiding… even if it’s little by little, even if my legs are still shaking. Because this time, I don’t want to disappear… I want to be.

If anyone happens to see me out there… let me know.
Although fair warning: when I do find myself… I might not be so easy to hide again.