Real Talk: Feeling Lost at 23

Australia 2017, England, Thailand 2017

I’ve always been open and honest here on my blog, so I thought I would dedicate this post to something which has quite literally been ruining my week. On Monday I arrived home once again, ecstatic after a wonderful time at Reading Festival and Tuesday was equally as positive as I sat down and applied for jobs all day.

I received a message from a friend who is currently in Australia and cannot decide whether to come home or not. They wanted my input on what they should do and if I have any regrets, and honestly it made me start to question what on earth I was doing. I begun to feel really, really down in a way that I cannot describe as anything other than rock bottom.

Of course I know that I won’t remain unemployed forever, but it is incredibly daunting to know with great certainty that I cannot go back to my old house on the hill in Reading and my old office with my old co-workers, or spend my nights after a shit day curled up on the sofa with someone I genuinely cared for. I don’t know why but I had an image in my head that coming home would be the exact same as when I left, but it’s not, at all. It’s bizarre and unsettling to not know what way my life is going to go.

I’d like to live in Reading – it’s comfortable, I know my way around like the back of my hand and my friend Samii recently bought a house there. But then I question if I’d fall back into old habits, if I’d feel the exact same as what prompted me to make such a life altering decision to travel. Yes, feeling lost at 23 is hard. Do I regret travelling? No. Do I regret coming back to the UK? No. Do I regret giving up such a competitive career? A little.

But the thing is, if I had never of gone for it then I know I would still be sat at my desk wondering “what if” and now at 23, I am refreshed and ready. I didn’t have the money for a gap year at 18 and after university I went straight into the grind of a 9-5 (read 7-7, because that’s what my job was) – I knew I wanted to see the world, to travel independently and stand on my own two feet whilst I wasn’t tied into a mortgage, a partner or screaming children. From walking along the most pristine beaches, driving a 4WD on white sands, nearly falling out of the back of a van on Pai’s infamous twirling mountains and meeting friends who no doubt I’ll know for the rest of my life – I’ve had a great 8 months exploring the world and exploring myself, I would find it difficult to regret such a journey.

So how can I help myself? On Wednesday I sat down and figured out what was making me feel sad. I got rid of people and situations from my life that made me question my worth. I mapped out a plan of where I am and where I want to be, and whilst I am currently none-the-wiser, I have hope that one day I will be. After all, the only way is up.

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Life After Travel: A Week at Home

Australia 2017, England, Uncategorized

It seems like forever ago that I was sat on a cramped 25 hour flight in the storm of coming home. Still jet-lagged and bleary eyed, slapped with a rejection from the police because of residency regulations, I dragged myself to Reading festival in a last minute decision to meet up with my two pals from university that I hadn’t seen in years. It felt good to have a few days out to just access my life and stay in the limbo of not being an adult just quite yet.

Whilst I’ve discovered that maybe festivals are not for me, I did have a great time seeing some bands I loved when I was younger, namely You Me at Six and Breaking Benjamin. I camped for 4 whole nights which for a self-proclaimed princess is no mean feat. I realised a lot this weekend – namely that beer for breakfast is (sometimes) a great idea.

Today I’ve arrived back at home to Kent for the second time in one week and I think the end of travelling blues will hit me like a ton of bricks at any minute. Everyone screams about how great it is to travel and do all of these amazing things, but I think we also need to remember the lows which will follow. It’s impossible to not get a little down when your life goes from sunbathing under palm trees to sitting in front of a screen/ringing up agencies looking for the right career for you.

I feel like I had a picture in my head of how my life would pan out when I got home, and so far it is absolutely nowhere near what I had in mind. I’m not joining the police (and cannot apply for 3 years because I’m allegedly not a UK resident), he will never want me, I’m heaps chubbier now than I was in January, and all my friends are buying houses and getting engaged whilst I’m putting mini doughnuts on my fingers and cuddling my cats.

Til next time.

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