My solution to the first one was London. It was my most daring move to date but as my 2nd quarter life crisis looms, I'm wondering if I'll be forced to move to Austrailia to survive it. I hoped that crisis was the like the chicked pox; you scratch away at the surface, feeling uncomfortable in your own skin but when its over your resilient and immune, with nothing but a few barely visible scars marking the trauma. Side bangs and a round of shots are a good source of camouflage against the untrained eye but after a month in the US, I might as well admit that I'm lost....again!
I ran home in hopes of avoiding this, I was sure that when I boarded the plane, I would have a plan, a next move, or at least a better understanding of what to do when I returned. But everything seemed as unresolved returning to Heathrow as when I left. Surrounded by the people that know me the best and love me in spite of it, there were moments when I thought moving back to the states was the answer. But then I would add another adventure in a distant place to the 'to-do list' in my head....and I'd go right back to being unsure that I am ready to give it all up.
The last 2 months have been a constant experiment in listing the pros and cons:
Pro: I live in a travel mecca, with tons of countries at my fingertips
Con: I am a 7 hour plane ride away from my friends and family
Add the relationship rollercoaster to that and its a recipe for a meltdown. And after 4 weeks of heart to hearts with my best friends, drunken nights with my girls, and qaulity time with my family, I am still no where near a decision or a plan.
Even though I didn't find the answers in the comfort of home, I did find some sort of self, granted its a lost me but it's still a bit more of me than before. The parts of me that are built and strengthen by the comfort and love only your family and closest friends can provide. And if nothing else, those 4 weeks allowed me to realise, I am not alone. We all seem to be searching for the answer to 'what now?'
I ran home in hopes of avoiding this, I was sure that when I boarded the plane, I would have a plan, a next move, or at least a better understanding of what to do when I returned. But everything seemed as unresolved returning to Heathrow as when I left. Surrounded by the people that know me the best and love me in spite of it, there were moments when I thought moving back to the states was the answer. But then I would add another adventure in a distant place to the 'to-do list' in my head....and I'd go right back to being unsure that I am ready to give it all up.
The last 2 months have been a constant experiment in listing the pros and cons:
Pro: I live in a travel mecca, with tons of countries at my fingertips
Con: I am a 7 hour plane ride away from my friends and family
Add the relationship rollercoaster to that and its a recipe for a meltdown. And after 4 weeks of heart to hearts with my best friends, drunken nights with my girls, and qaulity time with my family, I am still no where near a decision or a plan.
Even though I didn't find the answers in the comfort of home, I did find some sort of self, granted its a lost me but it's still a bit more of me than before. The parts of me that are built and strengthen by the comfort and love only your family and closest friends can provide. And if nothing else, those 4 weeks allowed me to realise, I am not alone. We all seem to be searching for the answer to 'what now?'
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