I’m home.
After 16 months living abroad I am finally home in New York and it feels………weird. When I got through security and saw my dad waiting for me, I instantly smiled, but then it all hit me like a tidal wave off the coast of Samui. I started sobbing like a child, so happy to see my Dad again, but so sad because it was all over. My feelings when I arrived home were very mixed. One minute I would be overwhelmed with emotion, and the next I would be numb. I feel like thats just me, thats how I’ve always been. Either emotional about a situation, or numb to it. (Probably not a good thing).
But again, being home is just so weird. I don’t even know if I can describe it, but I’ll try purely for the sake of this blog and well, for myself. You see, I’m sort of using this blog like a form of therapy, a more affordable less judgmental form of therapy.
I’ve been home for a little over a week now and when I think about it now, it all feels like a dream. At first you have to start getting used to the little things, like not throwing your toilet paper in the bin instead of the toilet (yes, in most Asian countries you have to throw your toilet paper in the bin because the plumbing systems can’t handle it). Also, not that I drove much in Australia, but I got used to Aussie cars and having the blinker where the windshield wipers were. Basically, I just looked like an idiot on the road the first day back.
So yes, you start getting used to the little things. But then you start looking around and then you start to say to yourself, why? Why do I have so many fucking clothes in my closet? Why is my bed so big? Why did I paint my room this dark adult like color? Why do I have so much shit? Its amazing to me really. I mean think about it- I traveled for 16 months and everything I owned fit in my backpack and I was MORE than content. And I’m not even making this up- if you would’ve gotten rid of all of my stuff at home, or if it just disappeared, I almost feel like I wouldn’t have cared. Obviously, now that I’m home theres things that I’m glad I still have. My point is, if its easy enough to forget about, then you probably don’t NEED it in your life.
Everyone that I’ve seen so far has asked me how my trip was. What can I say, it was amazing, it was the best time of my life, etc. But nothing I say can ever convey the things I’ve seen and experienced. I wish I could let you view it from my eyes, but that would only be a portion of the experience. I wish you could feel the things I felt. I’ve never felt more free and content in my life, than when I was away from home. I chose what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, with whom, and when. Everything was on my own terms, and it was the most exhilarating feeling. I was constantly meeting new people and doing new things and learning. I learned SO much when I was away; about myself, the world, life. I am so much more appreciative of everything now. I am more aware of little things, and I take the time to really sit and appreciate them.
“So what are you going to do next? Now that you’re home, are you going to find a real job?” I italicize “real” because what the F is a fake job? If you’re getting paid, its real.
But to answer your question, no. I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t know if i’ll ever be ready for a 9-5. Right now, my main priority is to save money and to leave again.
My mind has been non stop running with ideas. I want to blog more, I want to plan more trips and see more. I want to learn more about photography. I’m SO excited for whats to come. I want to use this time home and regroup my thoughts. I want to find out whats important to me, what makes me happy, what makes me feel my best, and I want to pursue that.
