At what point do we stop expecting that anything will be good? This isn’t meant to be supremely negative, more realistic. I often get my hopes up about a lot of things. Not necessarily wrongly, but just overly excited. But what does this create? A massive anti-climax.
Society creates this idea that some things will be incredible and the most amazing times of your life but that’s all hindsight and fluff. I went to the USA this summer, and although I’m never going to forget that I’m very privileged to be able to do that, it really wasn’t all I imagined and all that society had made it out to be.
And this had a really negative effect on my mental health, and my boyfriend’s too. But how can we possibly be honest about this? We’d be called ungrateful if we opened up honestly and said it wasn’t the best decision and we didn’t really enjoy it that much.
Now don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed parts, but is wasn’t this life-changing trip that we’d treasure forever.
This has only further escalated my desire to be able to live in the everyday. Not in the lame ‘YOLO’ way, but in the small, ‘mundane’ things that make every day worth living. I don’t want to spend my life living through my past trips and waiting for more. I want to live in the day I’m in.
I’m not saying that this is the case with most people who travel. It’s more likely that I’m just not a traveller. But again, I’m back in that position where I’m unconsciously judging myself for not being the person that I think society wants me to be. I’m not that person who loves travelling and does amazing incredible things all over the world. I like home. I like my own bed and sofa and space. I like routine, I like to be around things that comfort me. I like to stay in and snuggle with a blanket and a cup of tea in my own mug.
I’m still trying to accept the real me.