Exactly a year ago today I started my own freelance company. It was a quick, slightly unexpected move and one I wasn’t fully prepared for. Thankfully it was great for me professionally and personally, but that’s a story for another day.
Little did I know that a year later, to the day (completely unplanned), I would be sitting in a bar in Vancouver, Canada, with glass of red wine next to me*, about to embark on what is intended to be a year of solo travel.
This is probably the biggest decision I’ve ever made – to leave my job at 32 and travel for a year on my savings has been something I’ve assessed in depth and from all angles. Do I know it’s the right decision? No, absolutely not, but I trust I’ve made it with the knowledge I have at the time and that’s all I can do.
I’d been thinking about leaving London for a while and to do so wasn’t easy to be honest. London was my home for over 5 years and to leave it, and those I love there, was completely daunting. The only reason I knew it is the right thing to do was because the thought of staying no longer filled me with a sense of joy and direction.
I can’t fully remember how a year of solo travel transpired as an idea. Probably as a half-joke at first followed by serious consideration of the pros and the cons. I do remember mentioning it to my parents and them, rightly, prompting me to consider the impact it would have on my future career and finances. Luckily, they are big believers in the benefits of seeing the world and so their rational concerns were also balanced with supportive understanding and enthusiasm for the opportunity.
For me, the impact of a year out on my career in advertising wasn’t a concern, but the financial impact was. Travel makes you ‘soul-richer’ yes, but for all us non-influencer/digital nomads out there…it does make us cash-poorer too! I created an entire spreadsheet of bronze, silver and gold outcomes, just to set my mind at ease.
Over the next couple of months I didn’t dare commit to the decision publicly. I mentioned it to friends and work colleagues as a ‘possibility’ even though, knowing myself, it was pretty much a certainty.
It was strange, but once I had the idea in my head, things oddly seemed to fall into place to enable it to happen. My initial plan was to head to Canada at the end of July, but then my brother suggested meeting here at the beginning of the month as he was visiting for a wedding. I wasn’t sure this would work, I needed to save enough money after all. Around the same time, I finished one freelance contract and immediately got another that was the perfect length and would help me reach my savings goal in time. I also needed an operation and, after a bit of uncertainty as to whether or not it would go ahead, my surgery date was moved forward so I had a good amount of time to recover before going away. Whilst I knew at the time that something may have to give and was prepared to be flexible if needed, everything just seemed to click perfectly into place in the end. I’m a big believer in the universe doing its thing – it never rushes and is always on time.
In hindsight though, I didn’t give myself enough space to fully acknowledge leaving London, nor to say goodbye – it was too hard and I only really felt the impact of the decision in the three days before I left. It seems fitting that I spent these days with three of my favourite women – Nyssa, Emilie and Lizzy. Although I can call them and Skype any time, the reality of not being able to see them at ease really hit home for me and I haven’t yet been able to tell them why – words don’t seem to be enough.
Looking around my room in Clapham, I tried hard to hold on to the sense of normality it provided to me. No matter what anyone says, regardless of the positives and necessities, it’s hard to pack up a space that you call home – a space that has been a comfort and place for personal growth – and to turn the page on a chapter of your life.
I had so much going on in the 6 months before I left that I had to make the conscious decision to compartmentalise all areas of my life – I couldn’t think about moving until I had packed my room up and had my surgery, I couldn’t think about finishing my contract until I had recovered from my operation, I couldn’t think about travelling until I’d made it through Glastonbury Festival (post-op) and, until today, I couldn’t process the year ahead in full until I said goodbye to my family this afternoon, after a week together in Canada.
I was told once that self-inflicted delay in facing things to come is never more present than when the thing to come is something you deeply care about, something so personal and important to you that it seems easier to run away than towards the unknown and potential for failure or disappointment.
Today has been 6 months in the making and now it’s here it’s terrifying and wonderful and overwhelming. I’m navigating territory that feels like an old and new friend all at the same time. Just like this day a year ago (and the bottom of Alta Lake, Whistler - photo), I’m planting my feet in the unknown. It’s deeper than I thought, unsettling, soft, unfamiliar…but I’m going to stay here for a while.
*For the nerves, not the nomadic cliché.
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