1,012 Life Changing Words.
I don’t know where to start. And I know I won’t be able to answer all the questions I need to, but I’ll try…
I’ve thought about this post so much, what I’d say, how I’d tell you. It’s been a long time coming, and a big secret I’ve kept for a while now. As I sit here and type this I feel butterflies in my stomach, and have not yet decided whether they’re nervous or excited ones….
If you go back in my archives you’ll see snippets of, “I want to break free” thoughts. I’ve always known I was going to travel, just never knew when. When I graduated from my university, I was $48,000 in debt, so the possibility of traveling was definitely a no-go. And then, after a lot of nights in and twiddling my thumbs, on November 11th, 2010 I finally paid off my debt, but also found myself penniless; traveling was still not an option.
However, and if you’ve read the archives, or been with me from the start, you’ll know I had some Roommate drama, which was a blessing in disguise as it allowed me to save up over the last few months by living at home. Save up for what? I wasn’t sure. As time was ticking on, and my age struck 26 I was worried I was too old now to the plan and do the trip my 18 year old self had created. Maybe the money should go towards a… down payment?
But then, as fate would have it, I got the kick in the ass I needed when I found out my running group was running the Berlin Marathon on September 25, 2011. Perfect. I could use that to launch myself into a whirlwind trip, an excuse to leave my job, my life, and see the world.
As of right now I’ll set foot in 10 countries, 7 of which, I’ll be traveling alone in. To say I’m scared would be a huge understatement. I’m terrified to my core, but (and yes, this is all very lame) for some reason I feel the need to do this, always have, and now will. It wasn’t just the money that held me back before, I was also waiting for a friend’s schedule to align with mine, or perhaps meet a nice boy, who wanted to travel too. But at some point I had to stop waiting, and apparently that point is now.
Once all is said and done, and I’m all travelled out and desiring my own bed at night (no end date yet), I’ll book myself a flight to London, where I’ll find myself with no friends, no apartment, no job, no nothing, and start new. Start fresh. Redefine.
I’m fortunate enough to have my EU passport, which allows me to legally work in England, and start job searching as soon as I arrive, whether I’ll bartend, serve, or trade stocks again, I couldn’t tell you, but I’m open to anything and everything, as long as I love it. I know, right? I still feel like this isn’t my story, and this isn’t really going to happen.
I lived in London back in 2003 – 2004, and already know I’m head over heels for the city, but will things actually fall into place for me? I have absolutely no clue, but (warning: another lame line) you only live once, right? Which means I’m taking the chance, and if I crash and burn, so be it. I’ll move somewhere new if I do; create something new for myself then.
I’ve always known I’d leave Toronto, but wasn’t sure where I’d head. I looked into Australia, but concluded it was too far, and, of course, my top two choices, New York City or Chicago. But with so much of my trip relying on my need for a job on the other end of it, I really can’t afford the troubles of having to convince US immigration I’m not a terrorist, and will not drain their economy with my lazy ways. [However, it should also be noted, I have no doubt at some point I’ll end up back in North America.]
How long will I be in London? Who knows. Perhaps a few months, a year or five. We’ll see what happens, I suppose. Between you and me, it secretly terrifies me I’m running from something that isn’t here, or searching for something that doesn’t exist, I don’t know, I’m sure a psychologist could have a field day with my life plan right now, but at the end of the day, the thought of moving to London is what I want, and it’s taken me 26 years to realize there is no point doing something that doesn’t make me happy.
Will I blog on my travels? I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. I’m tempted to handwrite my story along the way in my new (so pretty) leather bound diary, or whether I’ll take a notepad, and find Internet access along the way. It’s all very up in the air. Will I blog from London? Absolutely, but be warned, as time has ticked on, and I’ve realized the planet doesn’t revolve around the number on the scale, I’ll most likely be blogging about real life things – such as, finding friends (because seriously, I’ll have none), figuring out a new routine, finding a job/apartment, creating a life for myself, and of course, my love affair with Prince Harry (because obviously that will happen).
I don’t know if this even answered any questions, or perhaps created more. Thank you for your well wishes today, they were so appreciated as I sat at my desk shaking with fear of giving up a great, stable, secure job in this type of economy.
I’m stepping outside my comfort zone come September, and am leaving the Toronto-corporate-comfortable chapter behind me, and am ready to kick off my heels, and grab my flip flops (well, running shoes for the marathon, and hiking boots for Everest) and see where my feet take me.
Thank you Little Blog, for reading, supporting and being there,