One Year on the Road: Looking Back
Issue #1 · Reflections on the decision to leave my normal life behind and travel the world.
Hi there, I’m Emily! 🙋🏼♀️ For those who are new, here’s a quick catch-up:
Five years ago, I packed my life into a suitcase and hit the road, moving to a new city every few months. Now, I write stories about the quirks, chaos and realities of living abroad, intertwined with my attempt to design a happy, meaningful life.
If you enjoy this post, stick around — something big is coming later in 2025!
One Year on the Road: Looking Back
It was a vicious cycle: Daydream about traveling the world, plan everything down to the most minuscule of details, and when it came time to actually click that seductive [book flight] button, chicken out.
I deeply envied those who had the guts to drop everything and move to Thailand to become a dive instructor, or those who put their belongings in storage to take a gap year, or even those who bravely asked for three weeks off work to backpack through South America. Those were guts I simply didn’t have.
Growing up, competitive gymnastics took me to several interesting corners of the United States, including all six time zones — who knew Alaska had a gymnastics team?! I viewed it as a major perk of dedicating my life to the sport, and it’s what I believe initially infected me with the travel bug. I felt extremely fortunate to visit so many interesting cities, even if that was sometimes counteracted by trips to the Syracuse Convention Center in the dead of winter.
Yet, even into my late 20’s, international experience was severely lacking from my travel resume. I was infinitely jealous of my brother who spent a year living in Amsterdam for work, and of my friends who went on exotic honeymoons (and rudely did not extend me an invite). I fantasized about teaching English in South Korea, hiking New Zealand top to bottom, or becoming a yoga instructor in Bali. I planned countless theoretical trips, knowing all the while, societal pressure to “follow the rules” and “live a normal life” would likely keep me handcuffed to the status quo forever. I seriously questioned if I’d ever have the nerve to get out and see the world myself.
It took the dread of an approaching thirtieth birthday, the freedom of freelancing, and the justification that I was already shelling-out an asinine amount of money on San Francisco rent (“why not spend it on a flat in Berlin instead?”) for me to finally muster up enough courage to pull the trigger. And this time, I didn’t just flirt with that seductive [book flight] button — I threw caution completely to the wind, rented a storage unit, and booked a jam-packed six month trip to Europe — I was set to leave on March 31, 2020, no looking back.
But timing is everything, and when the pandemic caused life to come to a screeching halt just three weeks prior to my departure date, my hopes were devastatingly dashed, once again. Visions of a summer spent basking on the Croatian coast and exploring Lisbon’s winding alleyways evaporated into thin air (and a few hundred dollars of forever unusable flight credits).
Worse, the uncertainty of when — or if — travel would ever return mocked me. I had spent nearly a decade rotting away in a cubicle, passively going through the motions of life. I had dragged my feet for just a few months too long, and my opportunity to travel vanished into thin air, indefinitely.
But ironically, it was these feelings of immense regret that caused my entire perspective to shift: Normalcy was already tossed out the window with the pandemic, and I decided that society’s conventional rulebook should go, too. I became a poster-child for the cheesy “live life to the fullest” mantra, as I realized I hadn’t actually been doing that before — not even close.
So when travel slowly began to return, and an opportunity to finally dust off my passport suddenly came about, I jumped on it without thinking twice. I was not going to let life continue to pass me by, and next thing I knew, I was on a one-way flight to Mexico. I was bursting with excitement, yet simultaneously scared shitless. And forget just six months — this time my travel plans had no end date in sight.
During the last year, I spent the winter in Mexico, two months on a slow-road trip through a few U.S. National Parks, and four months in Europe — and it feels like I’ve lived 1,000 different lives. Not only have I had loads of unforgettable experiences, visited dozens of picturesque cities, and laughed my ass off with new friends in obscure places, but I’ve also expanded my worldview, become more understanding of other cultures, and can now even hobble my way through a full conversation in a second language.
Though, despite what any Instagram highlight reel shows, it’s not all glamorous, of course. I’ve had an ATM card eaten at the worst possible moment, gotten ripped off by cab drivers, and battled a seemingly never-ending spell of food poisoning. I’ve missed weddings, holidays, and watching my best friends’ kids grow up. It’s often stressful and/or expensive (spontaneity and cheap flight deals simply do not go hand-in-hand). It’s difficult to keep a regular routine, stay in shape, and most importantly, find time to get all of my freelance work done.
But even so, I want to continue exploring every corner of this beautiful planet. After a year on the road, my appetite for adventure now feels insatiable. Plus, compared to some of my new “travel friends” I haven’t even been to that many places yet (the irony that my bucket list only seems to grow the more that I travel is not lost on me). It’s cliché, sure, but for good reason: travel really does impact you like nothing else. Hands down, it’s been the best decision of my life.
I didn’t want to write a listicle of the “Ten Things that Surprised Me About Turkey” or an advice column of packing tips. Yes, I’ve learned a lot and have plenty to share on that front, but when I reflect on the past year, there is really only one major thing that stands out: Saying yes. Saying yes to the unfamiliar. Saying yes in the face of doubt. Saying yes regardless of what other people may think.
For me, it’s simple: Experiences over material things. Happiness over societal rules. And when in doubt, book the damn flight.
Recommended related posts:
Societal Pressure Escape Velocity — For those who are considering the idea of an unconventional lifestyle.
Stacking the Happiness Odds in Your Favor — My thoughts on the domino effect that results from the decision of where we choose to live.