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The beginning...

Updated: Jun 18

The first entry of an uncertain blog #whattotalkabout


It's Tuesday, March 24th, day 8 of our self-quarantine and I figured this would be the perfect time to start this blog I've been postponing for a while.

My name is Paloma, I am the co-owner of Paz Bakery, and I will be writing here, hopefully, every other day. I don't really know what the theme of this blog will be...I guess I'll see where my fingers take me. It might be just a diary to keep my head sane (if it ever was).

Maybe I should start from the start of Paz. If you follow us on Instagram or Facebook you might know a little bit, but here I can go more in-depth into our story. If you don't follow us, here it is.


I, Paloma, was an unsettled Brazilian. I lived in Italy for 10 years before moving back home, and then to Canada 4 years ago. I'm an only child, extremely attached to my parents (believe it or not) and in that gap in Brazil, I tried to stay there. I wanted to stay close to my parents.


Brazil is a complicated country, with a complicated economy and I found myself struggling to find work in my field (fashion), so I began cooking a lot. When the opportunity to move to Canada came, I took it. I didn't really choose Canada. And I definitely wasn't sure about the move or leaving my parents, but I knew I had more opportunities in Canada than Brazil.


I decided to change careers. I started college all over again at the age of 30. Culinary. I sort of knew what I was getting myself into, but maybe not so much. College was good to me though. I had good grades, made good contacts, and friendships that I know will stay.


Part of my degree was a co-op term, which means I had to work in the field, which means I had to cook in a restaurant. I found a good co-op with the help of one of my professors, but good for the name, not for me. I don't think the cooking was challenging, being a woman in a man's world, you start in the delicate side: pastry and that was ok. I just didn't fit in with the people. And let's leave it at that, so I don't say things I'll regret later. What I will say is that I was depressed.


During college, I was already sad, I cried almost every day, but it got worse afterwards. My relationship was ending, I didn't like my job, which now was full-time, I missed my parents terribly. I felt alone, lonely, lost. I felt like I had no purpose and I had no idea why I was here.


I was finally able to change jobs. I liked it more. I liked the people there, I liked working with dough. I felt a bit more comfortable, but I knew that wasn't my calling, so that still didn't help with my "purpose" to be in Canada. I was taking life one step at a time and in my head, each step was taking me closer to going back to Brazil.


Still, while working at my new job, I had split shifts, which means I worked lunch hours, had a long break, then worked again till closing. My house was too far to drive in that break, so I spent my time in the nearby businesses. My favourite was one of the local breweries because I knew almost everyone working there, I could take my own lunch and use their wifi for free.


I was there almost every day talking to my parents and I kind of lived in my own world. I would go in, pick a remote table, order something to drink, talk to my parents, eat, pay, leave. As little interaction as possible...on purpose.


Despite my huge imaginary walls of protection, my frowned face and moody attitude, Andrew, now my fiance and partner at Paz, had noticed me. He somehow was interested in me. And I had never noticed his presence. 





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