my story
Entre Déserts – between deserts, is a simple living blog.
I’ve never had just one home. Honestly.
I was born and raised in Montreal, but every summer I became someone else — a barefoot kid in Tunisia, spending my days in the water (I learned to swim before I could walk), surrounded by cousins, jumping from rooftop to rooftop like we owned the city. The smell of jasmine in the evening air, the sound of Arabic floating through open windows, the feeling of salt on my skin — those summers shaped something in me that no amount of Canadian winter could undo. They taught me early that life could be lived differently. That slowness was not laziness. That community was everything.
In Montreal I built a career working with youth in crisis — years spent learning how people work, what breaks them, what holds them together, what makes them change. But it was living with the Inuit of Ungava Bay and later with the Cree of James Bay that taught me things no classroom ever could. They showed me what real community looks like. They showed me simplicity not as an aesthetic but as a way of being — the importance of connection, of respecting the cycles of nature and the cycles of people. They gave me a kind of resilience I carry with me still.
I am a lover of the sea. A diver. Someone who feels most herself underwater or at the water’s edge. I also trained as a massage therapist, adding another way of understanding the human body and what it carries. Then I packed 14kg onto my back and traveled the world for seven months, which confirmed what I had been slowly learning: that less is almost always more. Every country I passed through, every stranger who became a friend, every meal shared on a plastic chair outside a market stall — all of it pointed in the same direction. Toward less. Toward presence. Toward what actually matters.
During that trip I completed my Divemaster training in Indonesia, surrounded by oceanic and reef manta rays — creatures so ancient and so graceful they make you feel, in the best possible way, completely irrelevant. Underwater, there are no borders, no languages, no differences. Just life, in all its quiet enormity. That feeling has never left me. It deepened something that had been growing for years — a profound curiosity for humans and the countless ways we choose to live on this planet.
From the frozen north to the Sahara’s edge, from the markets of Southeast Asia to the fishing villages of Mexico, I have been endlessly fascinated by our differences. And even more so by what lies beneath them — because beneath everything, we are the same. We want to belong. We want to be seen. We want to live a life that means something.
Eventually I landed in La Ventana, a small coastal town in Baja California Sur, Mexico. I didn’t plan to stay. But this place had other ideas. Here I met my husband — another soul who had arrived looking for adventure. We found each other instead, and built a life together by the sea.
I have chickens. I have a dog named Ozzie. I have a life that looks nothing like what I planned — and everything like what I needed.
Entre Déserts is a simple living blog where I write about all of it. Culture. Simplicity. Nature. The quiet art of building a life that fits who you actually are, not who you were supposed to become. I’m not an expert in minimalism or any particular philosophy. I’m just someone who has lived in enough places, and close enough to the earth, to have learned a few things worth sharing.
Here you’ll find honest writing about slowing down, connecting with nature, and navigating life across cultures. No perfect aesthetics, no curated feeds — just real stories from a life lived close to the earth. Whether you’re dreaming of a different life, already living one, or simply looking for a quieter corner of the internet — you’re welcome here.
If something in you recognized itself reading this — you’re in the right place.