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Shares
No one ever speaks about the hard truth of backpacking for months. I’d heard of how quickly it goes by and how you must enjoy every minute of your time away before going “back to reality”. I was told not to worry because I would never be alone. That you always meet people, especially if you’re a solo traveller, about how great it is to discover new things out of your comfort zone and all the places you get to see. All of the above is true, but I didn’t expect this feeling of guilt when some days I feel heavy, anxious and overwhelmed, feeling all up in the air, I cry and want to go home. I get worried not knowing what the future holds for me and where my place is on this earth. I miss the literal meaning of being grounded. It’s not easy to go from one place to another every few days, not always getting the personal space you need, room to cry, to start to settle and then leave to keep moving forwards, others leaving and the numerous goodbyes. Every day is different and there’s so much for the brain to process. Often, you don’t give yourself the quiet time to focus on digesting these life experiences. That baggage you lug around gets fuller packing new knowledge, memories, self-realizations, life lessons and relationships. I crave a home to place these things that I carry- the discoveries of what I love and want in my life, to build, knowing the people I want to surround myself with, and the friendships I want to grow. I almost can’t wait to go home. A tough reality that hit me a few months in, is how I even got to being in this adventure. In short, I was able to fund my trip from my inheritance after my father passed away. I am incredibly lucky to be traveling and living my best life but sadly, it’s linked to my father no longer living. It feels unjust. How I wish to call him and share my stories like “Papa ! I rode a scooter on roads you cannot possibly imagine!! I’m ready to go on a bike tour with you!” I get so excited that I forget he’s gone and plan on hugging him on my way home. I also miss mum... We live different realities and it’s tough listening to her about her version of real life and what I mustn’t lose sight of. People believe that when you come home from backpacking you return to routine, a job, ‘more serious’ responsibilities and life not being as exciting. You slip right “back to reality”. That the adventure you lived during your travels was “just a holiday”, as if the past year wasn’t a massive experience of life that may have completely changed you and your way of living. I don’t want these expectations to shape my return. And here is what I found- we certainly don’t all have the same realities. There are days when I feel heavy hearted with these realities and the things I miss from my old life in London. But right now anything is possible and there is so much to experience to understand balance, like these tears in paradise, for example. It’s ok to cry. It is raw to share the hard parts when everything seems to be perfect. It is elevating to feel alive by accepting all the feelings that involves. I am humans and I welcome with heart wide open everything that I am yet to feel, learning to ride the wave during the up and the down. There’s no happiness without sadness, no strength without difficulty, no reality without truth and there’s nothing more real than the present. Now is all that we truly have. So here I sit on the beach, balling my eyes out, and I let it out. Let it out when I’m upset, let it out when I’m happy. Let it out to be my true self and you will find me whole.