Stolen Identity

Stolen Identity

Today I found out that someone has stolen my identity.

When I woke up this morning, I saw that some miserable sod had tried to transfer money out of my account. The only thing that saved me was being overseas.

It felt so icky that someone through the ‘wonders’ of modern technology had been able to hack enough details to hijack or ‘port’ (as it’s called in the modern lingo) my mobile number and access my internet banking account. I find it so off that someone is running around out there pretending to me, let alone seeking to cause all sorts of damage.

No question – it really shook me up. As the day has worn on, I’ve asked myself, ‘have I misplaced my identity somewhere?’


While I know I didn’t leave my details lying around , I misplaced my identity about the same time as I stopped writing this blog.

I misplaced it when I tried to apply an old and familiar set of criteria to an incompatible city. Over that period, I’ve lost my writing voice. Which to me is tantamount to just leaving my identity to rot away somewhere.

Since I’ve been back, or more specifically, since planning to come back, I’ve been trying to project in vain my expectations of a city: ‘drive, liveliness, good work opportunities and a future’.

None of that is present for me in Freiburg.

I think for months, I’ve held on to a hope that at some magical moment, this very special place would just click into place. And now? I can finally hear my voice again. I’ve given up trying to put a square peg into a round hole.

Not for a single moment do I feel silly about trying, it’s only human to latch on to what makes us feel whole. We also need to be open to surprises and the unknown – but there are also fundamentals at play. For now, when I accept that it doesn’t really matter what happens for the rest of my time here, I can explore what sits outside of the criteria – knowing I’ll return sometime next year to an updated version. Rich with new experiences and perspectives.

When I accept that it doesn’t really matter what I do until then – I can write again, just be me and enjoy the contrast.

It feels wonderful to be able to think and write once more. Especially when it’s borne out of a day like today.

When I accept that I’m a fiercely proud Melbournian with a lot to say and shape, I know that I’m reclaiming my identity – despite what any hackers might have done with it.


Explorers Way – Flinders Ranges – South Australia (July 2018)


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