Running Toward Freedom: How Paula Lewis Found Home Across Three Countries

Words by Mye Mulingtapang 

Photos courtesy of Paula Lewis

Editor's Note: This feature is presented in two parts to preserve the depth of Paula Lewis's story. Part I explores her journey from the Philippines to Japan and Italy, reflecting on migration, belonging, and the experiences that shaped her understanding of home. Part II follows how endurance sports, motherhood, and family transformed those lessons into a life defined by resilience, purpose, and the courage to keep beginning again.

Some departures last only a day. Others quietly shape the rest of a life.

When Paula Lewis left the Philippines at seventeen for Japan, she could not have imagined that a single flight would become the beginning of a journey spanning three countries, countless reinventions, and a different understanding of what it means to belong. The woman who now climbs mountains, runs marathons, cycles across continents, and raises her family in Italy did not emerge overnight. She was formed long before the medals, the passport stamps, and the photographs taken at famous finish lines. The most transformative journey she would ever undertake began with an airport farewell and the difficult realization that growing often requires leaving behind everything familiar.

Today, Paula's photographs tell an extraordinary story. One captures her beneath the Brandenburg Gate after completing the Berlin Marathon. Others show her standing above the clouds on a snow-covered summit in Japan, hiking through the emerald waters of Zion National Park, cycling toward Mount Fuji, and gazing across the vast expanse of the Grand Canyon. Together they reflect a life shaped by curiosity and endurance, yet they reveal only the destination, not the years of uncertainty that made those moments possible. Before she learned to conquer mountains, she first had to learn how to navigate the emotional landscape of migration.

The Departure That Changed Everything

Looking back, Paula Lewis traces that journey not to a race or a mountain but to a line from Paulo Coelho's Eleven Minutes.

"Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free."

The quote stayed with her because it eventually gave language to an experience she could not fully understand at seventeen.

"There’s a quote from Paulo Coelho's Eleven Minutes that has always resonated with me. 'Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free.' Looking back, that quote perfectly captures how I came to understand freedom.

"The day I left the Philippines at seventeen, I stepped into a world of uncertainty. I was leaving behind everything familiar—my grandparents who raised me, my childhood friends, and the life I had always known. At the time, it felt like I was losing so much. I thought that leaving the country where I grew up meant giving up the freedom to choose where I wanted to be."

Migration is often celebrated as an opportunity, but it begins with absence. The people who once filled everyday life become voices heard across oceans. Ordinary routines disappear overnight, replaced by unfamiliar streets, customs, and languages. For a teenager, those changes can feel overwhelming because every certainty that once defined childhood suddenly gives way to questions with no immediate answers.

For Paula, the hardest goodbye was deeply personal.

"I grew up with my grandparents, and one of the hardest parts was leaving them since they were the ones who nurtured and raised me throughout my childhood and teenage years. They were more than grandparents to me—they were my source of comfort, stability, and unconditional love. Leaving them felt like leaving a part of myself behind.

"Leaving my childhood friends was also incredibly difficult because we basically grew up together. We shared so many memories, from the simplest moments of playing outside to celebrating milestones together. At seventeen, I understood that I was moving toward a new chapter in life, but it did not make saying goodbye any easier. Even now, those memories remain some of the most treasured parts of my childhood."

Years later, the meaning of that departure changed. What initially felt like loss gradually revealed itself as possibility.

"But as the years passed, I realized the opposite was true. That leap into the unknown opened my eyes to possibilities I had never imagined. Living in Japan and later moving to Italy taught me that freedom is not simply about staying where you are comfortable. Sometimes, freedom comes from having the courage to let go of what is familiar and embrace uncertainty.

"In a strange way, leaving home taught me that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Every move, every challenge, and every new beginning expanded my understanding of who I was and who I could become. What once felt like losing my place in the world became an opportunity to create my own."

Paula Lewis Living Between Two Worlds

Leaving home did not immediately bring clarity. Instead, it introduced a quieter struggle familiar to many overseas Filipinos. As the years passed, Paula found herself suspended between the country where she was born and the one where she was building a future. She belonged to both, yet never completely to either.

"This is a question I often asked myself, especially when I was still living in Japan. The reality of leaving your hometown really hits hard when you realize that you don't fully belong in the country you now call your second home. There were moments when I felt caught between two worlds—too Filipino to be considered Japanese, yet slowly becoming unfamiliar with the life I left behind in the Philippines. It was a lonely feeling at times, trying to find where I fit in."

Migration often changes more than an address. It reshapes memory. The place left behind continues to evolve without you, while the place you've entered never quite allows you to forget you arrived from somewhere else. Home becomes divided between memory and everyday life, and belonging begins to feel less like geography than something carried quietly from one chapter to another.

Looking back, Paula eventually stopped searching for a single place where she fit perfectly.

"I realized that belonging is not always about a place. Sometimes it is about accepting every part of your journey and allowing yourself to carry pieces of every place you have called home."

Three Countries, Three Lessons

Life eventually carried Paula beyond Japan. In 2023, she and her family moved to Italy, beginning another chapter that required learning a new language, navigating unfamiliar systems, and once again embracing the discomfort of starting over. Rather than replacing one home with another, each country added a new layer to the woman she was becoming.

The Philippines remained the foundation.

"Being respectful to elders. No matter how long I have lived abroad or how many cultures I have adapted to, that value has never left me. Saying po and opo may seem like a small thing, but for me it represents a deep respect for the people who came before us. It reminds me of how I was raised and the values my grandparents instilled in me from a young age. Even today, whenever I show respect to older people, I feel connected to my Filipino roots."

Japan became the place where resilience was forged through daily experience rather than dramatic moments.

"Living in a country where I initially felt like a stranger, while learning the language and adapting to a completely different way of life, was not easy. There were many moments when I felt overwhelmed, isolated, and out of place. But those challenges taught me resilience. Japan taught me that growth often comes from discomfort and that success is built through consistency, patience, and hard work. It pushed me to become the strongest version of myself."

Italy, by contrast, continues to teach a lesson that cannot be rushed.

"I moved to Italy in October 2023, and one quality I've distinctly developed here is patience. I'm not going to lie…the level of bureaucracy here resembles the Philippines, and sometimes it can feel even worse. The language barrier can also be challenging, and there are days when simple tasks become unexpectedly complicated. Living in Italy has taught me to slow down, adapt, and accept that not everything can be controlled. It has reminded me that patience is not simply waiting; it is learning how to remain calm and positive even when things don't go as planned."

Respect, resilience, and patience became more than qualities Paula admired. Together they formed the compass she would rely on whenever life demanded another beginning.

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When Adaptation Became Confidence

For many migrants, adaptation begins as a necessity. You learn the language because you have to. You observe customs to avoid mistakes. You slowly reshape everyday habits until unfamiliar routines become ordinary. Over time, however, survival can become something more empowering. Instead of simply fitting into a new environment, you begin discovering who you are because of it.

"Living in different countries gave me the inspiration and confidence to become whoever I wanted to be. The day I moved to Japan marked the beginning of that journey. At first, adaptation felt like survival. I was learning a new language, navigating a new culture, and trying to find my place in a society that was unfamiliar to me. But over time, I realized that every challenge I overcame made me stronger. What started as adapting to fit in eventually became the confidence to stand out and embrace who I truly am. Living abroad taught me that I am capable of far more than I ever imagined, and that realization was incredibly empowering."

Long before Paula climbed mountains or crossed marathon finish lines, she had already completed a more demanding journey. She had learned to begin again without certainty, to carry home across continents, and to trust that growth often begins where familiarity ends. Years later, during what she expected to be an ordinary run, she would discover another lesson waiting for her—one that could only be learned by putting one foot in front of the other.