Going to Romania was a way of putting myself in danger, of getting out of my comfort zone. I had been playing for Metz for six seasons, and I felt like I had seen it all.
And boy, I did get out of my comfort zone.
Exhausted, tired after playing the Olympics in London, my body said stop. Torn ACL, nine months out. At the other end of Europe, at a club that was crumbling financially.
At that point, I did wonder whether I should go back to France. I questioned myself: why am I putting myself through all of this?
But before I had an answer, Vardar came. And Vardar, speaking of handball, saved my life.
The day I was meant to undergo knee surgery, the club called. They were building a women’s top-level team, and they wanted me to be part of it.
“Do you know where I am right now?” I asked them, almost crying. I was anxious before the surgery, but also a bit bewildered that they called me even though I was about to be away for the next nine months.
But they trusted me. And these years in Skopje were the most amazing I had in a handball team.
I often look back to these days and tell myself how lucky I was to share these five years with these amazing people. This club has a special place in my heart, the city of Skopje has a special place in my heart.