Finding space – Morris' Story  

I was born in Glasgow, a city shaped by grit, humour, and resilience, where my parents still live today. I have one sister who lives in Perth. She’s a dentist, married, with a young son called Freddy. We’re not a remarkable family in any grand sense. No dramatic backstories. Just ordinary people getting on with life. 

I went through school, did reasonably well, and went on to study history and politics at the University of Strathclyde, before continuing with history at the University of Glasgow. That interest in the past eventually took me to Northern Ireland, where I began a PhD at Queen’s University Belfast. 

I spent seven enjoyable years there. It was where I met my now fiancée, and where we built a life that suited us well for a long time. Eventually, though, we felt ready for a change. 

We’re both nature lovers, and what we wanted most was space. Not just fields, but trees, hills, wildlife, and landscapes you can disappear into. Northern Ireland has plenty of open land, but not much woodland. Around the same time, my partner, who studied anthropology and psychoanalysis, began thinking seriously about her next step. Conservation had always interested her, and when she discovered a course at the Centre for Alternative Technology near Machynlleth, it planted an idea. 

I had no real connection to Wales. I’d only visited as a baby and remembered nothing. My partner, however, had spent holidays in Mid Wales as a child. We visited together in 2021 and immediately liked it. It felt calm and grounded in a way we hadn’t realised we were missing. 

Soon after, a job came up at Aberystwyth University that matched my skills. I applied, got it, and have been based there ever since, moving between short-term roles. Thanks largely to a supportive boss who keeps finding bits of funding, I’ve been able to stay. 

Coming to Wales wasn’t carefully planned. It was fairly spontaneous. I didn’t arrive with a sense of destiny or belonging. We just wanted something different, and that was enough. 

Since then, I’ve worn many hats: digital intern, exhibitions assistant, project officer, associate lecturer. I’ve worked on Second World War and Holocaust exhibitions, helped develop educational resources for Welsh schools, and curated stories about displaced people living in Wales. I also lecture in English and Creative Writing, despite being a historian by training. 

Life here has been good. Machynlleth is a genuinely lovely place to live. We have a small house with a garden, and the landscape still feels like a privilege. Walk fifteen minutes one way and you’re among the hills; fifteen the other and you’re by the river. The sea is just down the road. 

The community is a real mix. Welsh-speaking families live alongside English incomers, many from Birmingham. There aren’t many Scots. My fiancée’s parents even followed us over from Northern Ireland. 

Some memories stand out. Launching an exhibition about refugees at Aberystwyth Arts Centre was something I was genuinely proud of. Others like spotting a juvenile cuckoo near Harlech and getting engaged here in Wales. 

I won’t pretend I don’t miss Scotland. I miss my friends, my family, and the drama of the Highlands. But Wales has given me something else: peace, purpose, and a sense of possibility. 

My story isn’t dramatic. There was no forced exile. I moved because I could. Because people do. 

When I think about the future, I don’t imagine chasing status. I think about planting trees, writing books, raising a family, and living simply. Contentment, for me, is the goal. 

And maybe that’s radical in its own quiet way.