Five years ago, I packed up my life in my Ford Transit van I’d converted into a tiny home on wheels. We’d just come out of our first long COVID lockdown in Kaikōura and I found myself questioning everything – where I was going, what I wanted, who I was becoming.
I drove north with no clear plan beyond a teaching job and a quiet hope that maybe this next chapter would offer roots. I was still a few months shy of 30, still very much “me”: solo, adventurous – basically young, wild, and free. But I was ready to commit – to a job, to a town, maybe even to someone special.
Whakatāne is so underrated. The climate is dreamy. The beaches are magic. The people are kind. And the pace slows you down in all the best ways. This town taught me to breathe. To live simply. To stop caring quite so much about what other people are doing, or what they think.
I’ve built a life here. One full of memory and meaning. And it’s impossible to thank every person who has shaped these years, but I can try. To the incredible women of the SDA school – thank you. For your prayers, your wisdom, your joy. You’ll always have a piece of my heart.
To my teaching whānau at St Jo’s – thank you for your grace as I emerged out of the cocoon of postpartum/maternity leave and tried to figure out how to balance being the mum I wanted to be alongside work.
To my mum friends – what a gift it’s been to become a mother alongside such a fierce, funny, supportive group of wāhine. You’ve held me through long days and reminded me that I was never alone.
And now, I’m leaving - but I’m not going alone.
This time, it’s not just “me”. We’re a we.
I leave with Dave – an unbelievably devoted father to our children. A man who works tirelessly for us and still manages to be so present, and full of love.
We leave with Gracie and Noah – our wild, wonderful, tiny humans who made us a family.
Five years ago, I came here as a single woman chasing possibility.
Now I leave as a wife, a mother, a we – carrying not just my dreams, but theirs too.
I’ve moved plenty of times in my life, between towns, across countries. But I’ve never moved like this before. Never with the weight and the beauty of wanting to do right by my family. It’s terrifying. But also pretty awesome, Because whatever we face, we do it together.
A promise for the future
A friend prayed over us the other day and said, “Libby, you never need to fear for your future – because God has always protected and cared for you in your past.”
That settled something in me. Until then, I’d been anxious. Nervous. A little panicked, if I’m honest. We’re heading somewhere quite wild and extreme – heat, wildlife, remoteness, new people. But also? A place of opportunity and newness.
So Whakatāne – thank you.
For the beach walks with coffees in hand. For the sun-drenched days and frosty winter mornings. For the friendships, the fruit trees, the playgrounds, the faces we now know and love.
For our first family home – our little slice of semi-rural paradise on SH30.
For now, it’s time for the next chapter.
Whakatāne ➝ Darwin ➝ Alice Springs.
