It was the snow that did it to me.

The snow kissed my skin. It was saying “hello, I’m here.”

I looked up and it kissed my skin with so my lightness and grace that it felt like it wasn’t even real.

Snow.

Real snow.

How is this even happening?

It’s so beautiful.

The air was so cold when I stepped out of the plane and onto the tarmac. I was all by myself. I didn’t speak Japanese, but I knew I was safe.

The bus rolled over the hard earth and took us to our next destination.

I waited.

And waited.

Were my bags coming? Am I going to be stuck at the airport all night, all by myself?

It’s funny how our minds always go to the worst places all of a sudden when we are in a new environment.

They came.

I was ok.

I walked over to the elevator and eventually managed to get into it with my snowboard bag and suitcase in hand.

I was 18.

I had never travelled by myself, yet to another country that didn’t speak my language.

But I knew it was home.

As we got closer to the town I was going to be living in, the air started to freeze. The windows were like ice. I could breathe.

I had my dinner at 11pm at night. The heat was radiating from the bowl beneath me. The sound of slurping got me.

I was home.

The five hour car drive got long. My bum got sore. Was I going to be ok? Was I being taken to the right place? How would I contact anyone?

I made it, and I was ok.

I made it, I really made it.

The air was ice. My soul knew. My soul knew I was meant to be there. It was silently celebrating. I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know who I would meet. I didn’t know how I would make it all work.

But I did.

I didn’t really leave my room for the first day or two. The calm before the tourist storm was weird. I was out of my depth. My body and mind wanted to stay calm, and warm.

I learnt to snowboard this trip.

“Turn, turn, turn!!!” my friends would call.

“No, it’s too scary”.

And then one minute, I did it, I turned! I turned on my snowboard. It happened. I faced the white beneath, and around me. I said yes. And I did it. I turned. I faced my fear. Oh how good this felt. My whole body was alive. I really did it.

I had always wanted to snowboard, but dad never let me. He said:

“Once you go on your own snow trip, then you can.”

So I did.

And I haven’t looked back.

The first time I got tipsy was in the snow.

The first time I kissed a boy sober, was in the snow.

The first time I let myself truly live, was in the snow.

If you have ever done a snow season before, you will understand what I mean.

There’s something truly special about the snow.

The friends, the moments, the memories, the people, the lessons, the growth, the decisions and the love.

Living and working in the snow changed my life. I grew, I learnt that the people who are meant to be in your life, will be. I had fun. I put on weight, I ate beautiful food and drank delicious drinks. I did things I never thought I would.

And you know what?

I wouldn’t change any of it. I wouldn’t change the weight gain, the bad skin, the 3 hours of sleep, the bruised tail bone, the steep hill climbs.

Why?

Because they were, and are, part of the magic.

I was sprinkled with magic and it filled my soul right to the top, and somehow, it has never disappeared. And for this, I am truly grateful.

Japan and the kisses of the snowflakes on my warm skin, have my heart.

Now, and forever.