The unexpected path that led me home

On trusting myself, letting creativity lead, and finding alignment before I even knew what that meant.

Have you ever found yourself at a crossroads, completely lost and not knowing what direction to choose?
Feeling like the straightforward path you’ve been following your whole life suddenly doesn’t make sense anymore — like it’s a dead end — but looking at the other path with uncertainty and apprehension? And what if you couldn’t even see another path?

I’ve struggled with those feelings during the first months after leaving my corporate job back in early 2012 — losing confidence in myself and in my future.

But the moment I stopped trying to look for external answers and turned inward instead, something shifted. Not in a dramatic way, but in the quiet pull of a new curiosity. A spark I hadn’t expected.

Truth is, wine wasn’t an instant passion. For years, I politely grimaced at red and white and made a run for it whenever rosé was involved. But as my partner was a wine lover, he slowly introduced me to the world of wine, and the more I learned about it, the more my interest grew — to the point where I decided it was time to learn on my own.

I spent most of 2012 quietly observing the wine world from the sidelines. I created a Twitter account and followed wine professionals, sommeliers, winemakers, and curious amateurs. I listened more than I spoke. I took my first wine-tasting classes in Toulouse, notebook in hand, trying to decode what made a wine “expressive” or a finish “long.”

It wasn’t just about wine — not really. It was about feeling something again. Curiosity. Wonder. A tiny flicker of joy that hadn’t been there in a while. It was also a way to satisfy my lifelong love of learning new things.

It started with curiosity. With noticing the details. With holding something small — and realizing it might grow into something more. (This photo came later, but the feeling traces all the way back to that very first vineyard walk.) - Copyright: by the author, Maïlys RAY

I didn’t know it then, but by doing that I was slowly coming back to life. Over the months, curiosity turned into a real passion for this world — so different from the one I had evolved in so far.

In January 2013, I hit publish on a blog I had been secretly dreaming about for months. It was called “Very Wine Trip.” The name was playful, the tone lighthearted, but behind it was something more: a desire to create, to connect, and maybe, without realizing it at the time… to begin designing a life that felt more like mine.

It also marked a reconnection with some long-forgotten passions. Writing — something I had always loved but had never shared publicly — suddenly became a living, breathing part of my week. Photography and visual storytelling, which I had gravitated toward in my previous marketing jobs, came back into focus as I started capturing moments, scenes, bottles, and encounters that spoke to me.

And beyond the content itself, I was experimenting. I built the blog from scratch, taught myself how to use WordPress, dabbled in HTML and CSS, and even created my own logo. The process was imperfect but exhilarating.

For the first time in a long time, I was learning for the joy of it, creating something that was entirely mine.

Publishing the blog gave me a voice. But I also needed a place.

Soon, I felt the urge to connect with this world in real life, not only online. I did so by attending my first Vinocamp — an event dedicated to wine and technology, gathering professionals to explore how the internet and social media could help the wine world grow and connect.

That weekend in Cognac was my first real dive into the wine world. Not just behind a screen, but in the company of others who shared the same thirst: for learning, for connecting, for reshaping how wine stories were told. Meeting in person with people I ‘knew’ from Twitter, exchanging ideas, tasting Cognac together, learning to appreciate the nuance between VSOP and XO, felt like stepping into a room I didn’t know I belonged to, but somehow did.

The rest of that weekend felt like a slow unfolding of magic. By day, we sat in workshops and debated the future of wine & spirit communication; by night, we wandered through candlelit cellars, watched cocktails being shaken with flair, tasted Pineau for the first time, and met producers who carried their craft like a quiet pride.

What began as a blog turned into something else entirely: a path. One that led me not just into wine, but into a deeper form of connection — to the land, to others, and slowly, back to myself.

I began writing about wine producers, sharing their stories with my words. I started with the wine region I was in at the time, and with a female biodynamic winemaker who, like me, had attended a top business school and once pursued a more traditional path before pivoting into wine. Our meeting felt like a mirror: two women choosing a different kind of success.

After that, everything accelerated. I attended more Vinocamps, more wine fairs, and connected with more producers. I even earned my WSET Level 2 certification as I wanted to write with depth and credibility. And without realizing it, I was building something bigger than a blog.

I began receiving invitations — to taste wines, to visit vineyards, to attend events. I started participating in Les Vendredis du Vin — a monthly writing challenge for wine bloggers — simply for the joy of it, which opened new doors and helped me build meaningful relationships.

Eventually, I served as president for one edition. An honor that led to an article and video interview on local TV.

I had shown up with sincerity, and life responded.

By the end of the year, I wrote my first blog posts about Corsican wines and Corsican winemakers. It was also at that time that my own business became official. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but I followed my inner intuition that there was something there that made sense.

In January 2014, I celebrated the blog’s first birthday with a mix of gratitude and perfectionism. I hadn’t written as much as I wanted — but what I had created felt alive. More importantly, it had become a space for connection.

I wrote my first interview in English — with an American oenologist living in South-West France but passionate about Corsican wine. It was a way to bring my voice to a bilingual audience and deepen my relationship with the island I would eventually call home.

Looking back now, I see how everything started to weave itself together.

What began as a curiosity turned into a blog. The blog became a space for discovery, connection, and creative freedom. And slowly, as I kept showing up — through words, through presence, through the things that genuinely lit me up — something shifted.

Without realizing it, I was following what felt real — not chasing outcomes, but responding to what sparked curiosity and connection. I wasn’t pushing. I was showing up, sharing, expressing… and the Universe responded.

That season of creativity — the wine, the writing, the slow return to myself — wasn’t a strategy. It was an awakening. A reintroduction to what made me feel alive.

And though I didn’t know it yet, it was setting the stage for everything that would come next. I’ll tell you more about this journey from wine blogger to solopreneur in the next chapter.

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If you’re in a moment of quiet rebuilding or creative reimagining — if you’re not sure where it’s all leading, but you feel something real pulling you forward — I hope you find something here that resonates.

Sometimes, not knowing — and trusting the process — is what eventually leads you to see an option you hadn’t considered before.

That’s exactly what I’m trying to do right now with Sip of Corsica: letting it guide me toward the next phase, without knowing yet what that phase is.

If it speaks to you, you’re warmly invited to join me for the ride. The more, the merrier.

Do you remember a moment when your creativity pointed toward a door you hadn’t seen before?

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This is the third piece in my 12 Chapters series — a memoir-like exploration of personal turning points, written through the beautiful container of the 12 Chapters Club created by

Claire Venus ✨

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Here are the two pieces already published if you’ve missed them:

The year that changed everything.

When I stopped seeing my own light