One thing that I’ve found as I’ve been traveling is how perceptions of the world change.
Which, yes, kind of obvious; something I did sort of already know. Knowing something intellectually and experiencing it are very different things.
I travel by myself, and I love it. I don’t have to justify my choices, I don’t have to compromise on things. I can do anything I want to, because I want to. It’s one of the most freeing, empowering things I’ve ever done.
Every beautiful thing that happens – it’s because of choices I made.
Every stupid thing that goes wrong – those are also because of choices I made.
It’s so much easier to take responsibility for my life when I have no one else to blame…for anything. I can’t imagine anything better.
That being said… I keep finding that I’m still hesitating sometimes. I’m still waiting for permission to do the things that I want to do. I’m still looking for someone to tell me that it’s okay to throw out ideas that have been pressed into the culture I grew up in.
If I say something like “I want to go to Kenya”, in the ‘States, I am told that I will end up dead or kidnapped, as a young lady traveling alone. When I tell someone in New Zealand that I want to go to Kenya they say “Oh, that would be lovely, wouldn’t it. I’ve always wanted to go to Africa…”
Now, perhaps it’s my sample group, which is, admittedly both small and more open-minded to both traveling and travelers than the general populace probably would be.
It’s nice though, for the first response to not be fear.
That’s something I want to be able to pass along to other people. A response of not-fear.
It’s amazing how much it feels like that elusive “permission” that I’ve been looking for.