I arrived in Vienna at sixteen.
My family was at the airport. I wasn't alone. But standing there, I felt it — the weight of a whole new life I hadn't chosen yet. A city I wasn't even sure I wanted. A language still finding its way into my mouth.
I wasn't lost. I was just unfinished.
Honestly? I still am. Vienna and I are still figuring each other out.
And yet — somewhere along the way, I made a lot of mistakes.
One of them was grammar. Like saying das instead of die.
In German, that's a mistake.
But trying out loud, in front of people, in a language that isn't yours yet — that takes courage. More than most people give it credit for.
So we kept das. On purpose.
Because das Heimat isn't built for the ones who have it all figured out. It's built for the ones brave enough to try before they're ready.