About

Hi, I’m Martina.

I studied journalism because I was always drawn to stories — real ones, messy ones, the kind people usually keep to themselves. For a few years I actually lived that dream: reporter, then editor. I loved it.

Then life happened. And life, as it turns out, doesn’t care much about dreams when the rent is due on the 1st and you never know when your next paycheck is coming.

So I pivoted. First to a betting company — yes, really — then to insurance. Twelve years later, I’m still in insurance, but across three countries. Bosnia. Then Croatia — Zagreb, where everything started to shift. Now Italy, Trieste specifically, where the wind is rude and the coffee is non-negotiable.

Along the way: two master’s degrees, a husband I’d follow anywhere.

And then one night, something wouldn’t let me sleep. That old pull — the one I buried fifteen years ago when I stopped writing for a living. It came back. Quietly at first, then louder.

So here I am.

Without an Elevator is me climbing again — no shortcuts, no safety net, just honest stories from someone who’s built a life from scratch more than once. If that sounds familiar, pull up a chair.