When I left Melbourne, I wanted to start over. I had this idea in my head that severing myself from everything else in my life and traveling across the sea would allow me to recreate who I was. I thought that I could leave all of my mistakes behind, and be someone new.
Then I got to Halifax, and too soon learned that I was still the same person, making the same mistakes, just in an entirely different city.
I’ve done a lot of growing up in the last year. Living out of a suitcase and starting with nothing but the bare basics can do that to you. Suddenly all of the issues you once thought were life or death become obsolete and petty. I shifted my focus, changed my perspective, and stripped myself from all of the expectations I used to have.
But I still have a lot of stuff to figure out. A lot of things that I have to come to terms with and a lot of things I need to let go of.
One thing about traveling on your own is that you’re suddenly catapulted into a world where you become your own top priority. There is no-one pulling strings or directing you where to go next. It’s entirely up to you. And it’s only yourself that you have to blame when things go awry, and it’s only yourself that you have to thank when things work out- you take on full responsibilty for who you are, wherever you are. It’s challenging, it’s terrifying and at times it’s incredibly lonely, but it’s also enthraling.