The nomad, gypsy, vagabond life… it can look really glamorous. I do catch myself in moments, smiling at nothing in particular, swimming with joy that I have this opportunity.
I’m discovering more and more about myself, now that I’ve been on this journey for six weeks. While I do feel particularly suited for this life… it doesn’t come without consequence.
Truthfully, the nomad life suits both my introverted and extroverted tendencies. My social butterfly / extroverted streak loves meeting tons of new and interesting people and exchanging ideas, and is never bored due to the near-constant stimulation from new places and experiences.
The introvert / escapist in me gets to move on before I’m fully emotionally exposed. Being nomadic and the constant cycle of home bases makes it easy to unwittingly keep new connections at arms’ length vs. allowing them into my close friend circle. I know this about myself, and I don’t like it; it can be hard for me to wholly open up, especially knowing that my presence will be temporary. But I understand — it’s self-preservation. This mindset keeps my heart in one piece when the time comes, inevitably, to say goodbye.
Over this journey, and during my other travels, I’ve meet some amazing women (and men) who could very well become my ride or die if we were in the same place. I wish we had more time together, to get to know all the ins and outs, to make more memories, to have those shared experiences that just come with time. And then there’s those romantic possibilities that experienced “a failure to launch,” perhaps due to the perception of my unavailability, and not enough time spent together.
Cycling through places is truly bittersweet — bitter because I just got a taste of what life would be like. The people, the places, the potential love interests. But sweet — because a new adventure is right around the corner.
This is the life I chose, and I’m here for all of it. ❤️