It’s within that contrast that Louise has built her life here, moving through many different versions of Ibiza over the years, each one arriving alongside a different version of herself. The first time she came to Ibiza, she arrived on a party holiday with a friend, staying in San Antonio and barely sleeping for a week. 

“We completely fell in love with the island, probably for all the wrong reasons.” 

Back home in England, the feeling lingered. The following summer, she and her housemate packed up their Ford KA, drove through Spain and caught the ferry over to the island. “We were those adventurous, crazy girls who would just say yes to anything.” She was eighteen years old at the time, and what followed were five summer seasons shaped by freedom, spontaneity and the pull of a place she couldn’t quite leave behind. Eventually, she returned to England, convinced it was time to “get a real job” and sort her life out. But Ibiza stayed with her. 

“The bug was still there. It kept scratching away at me.” 

Having stayed in touch with people she had previously worked with through club night Hed Kandi at former club El Divino, now Lio, an opportunity eventually came up within a concierge company they had launched on the island. By then, Louise had been following a career in the media industry in London, but when the opportunity came up, the timing felt right. Five years after leaving, she found herself returning to Ibiza again, this time stepping into a completely different chapter of life. “From the second I arrived in Ibiza on that first trip, I knew there was something about it,” she says. Even now, she describes getting off the plane as a feeling of coming home. “Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” Over the years, she has experienced many different sides of the island, but rather than feeling disconnected from one another, they have unfolded naturally alongside her own life. 

“As I’ve discovered new parts of the island, I’ve also discovered new parts of myself.”

Life now looks very different to those early seasons. Today, Louise lives in Jesús with her husband and their two children, balancing family life alongside working as a wedding planner and running The Mothership, the motherhood community she founded on the island. Her days move between school runs, after-school activities, client work and supporting mothers navigating parenthood in Ibiza. After studying matrescence, the emotional and physical transition women move through after becoming mothers, her work slowly began shifting towards support, connection and community.

“Back then, life was adventurous, late nights and long lazy days. Now it’s packed to the rafters.” 

Much of what she does now is rooted in creating spaces where mothers, particularly those living far away from home and family, can feel supported, understood and less alone in the intensity of motherhood. 

Living here has shaped the way she sees time, work and ambition. Ibiza can feel contradictory at times, a place of immense wealth, opportunity and excess, where it’s easy to get swept up in a world that doesn’t always matter as much as it seems to. “Sometimes it can feel a bit like living in a fairytale,” she says. But over time, motherhood and island life have grounded her in different ways. “Then you go to the beach with your kids and realise actually that’s what it’s all about.” A walk by the sea, an afternoon outdoors, and perspective quietly returns.

“You can feel like the richest person in the world just having your family and the sea.”

Before having children, healing and ritual played a bigger role in her life here. Yoga, hiking and time outdoors were naturally woven into her days. Now, like many mothers, she admits life often becomes consumed by the practical rhythm of family life. But she still finds herself returning to the island in quieter ways. “When I take the kids down to one of my favourite beaches or go on a little hike with them, it brings me back to myself a bit.” There’s something about the landscape itself that softens things. A reminder of where they are. Her children, now three and seven, were both born on the island. For Louise, childhood here feels noticeably different to the version she remembers growing up in England. 

“I feel like childhood here is much more innocent.”

Creativity is nurtured naturally, not forced, and children remain connected to nature and outdoor life in a way that feels increasingly rare elsewhere. Her eldest son, she says, is deeply creative, drawn towards art, singing and dancing, and she feels the island gives him the freedom to grow into those parts of himself. 

“Kids seem to stay children for longer here.”

What she hopes they carry with them into adulthood is that same openness she feels the island teaches so naturally. “Everybody is equal, and everybody is accepted.” Growing up surrounded by different nationalities, cultures, and ways of living has shaped the environment around them, and she hopes that openness stays with them long after childhood. 

Much of family life now is built around familiar places across the island. Salinas remains somewhere they return to often, whether for beach days or walks through the surrounding nature. They spend time in Talamanca near their home in Jesús, and Sa Caleta holds memories of her children’s earliest years, afternoons spent throwing stones into the sea before the beach later closed because of falling rocks. There’s also a hill in Santa Eulalia, near the Meliá hotel, where she and her husband married and where they still return with the children to sit quietly overlooking the water. Even driving to Es Cubells has become part of that rhythm. “You can get so caught up in the school runs and day-to-day life,” she says, 

“Then suddenly you’re driving there thinking, wow… this is where we live.”

For Louise, what Ibiza offers that nowhere else quite does is a sense of openness. “I know people here from so many different walks of life.” The island draws together people with different stories, backgrounds and perspectives, but there is a shared openness that exists beneath it all. 

“Everybody here has a certain lust for life.”

At the same time, she hopes the island can hold on to the parts of itself that first drew so many people here. The old music culture, the freedom, the charm and spontaneity that once defined Ibiza so strongly. Working in events, she understands the realities of how much the island has changed, but she also feels it’s important not to lose the balance completely. “It’s great to have the tourism, but rather than just becoming a millionaire’s playground,” she says, “it’s important to keep the culture alive as well.”

For Louise, Ibiza has never stayed still. It has shifted and evolved alongside her own life, from reckless summers and adventure into motherhood, community and something more grounded. But underneath every version of it, the feeling has remained the same. A place she continues to return to, again and again, as though some part of her was always meant to be here.