It’s not my first time.  My first time was a year and a half ago.  I’d like to say it was gentle and the chemistry flowed naturally, but I’d be lying.  There were parts of it that felt like they were meant to be…serendipitous even…and others that felt like butting heads…not dissimilar to the perfect storm of absolute opposition.  I’ve heard all relationships like this have similarities, but who am I to know?  I stayed in that codependent relationship for almost a year…and when it ended we made a clean break but decided to be friends…eventually…when the harshness of it all wears off and all we are left with are the sweet and tender memories.  Going back through the thousands of pictures I took during that time…so many beautiful moments…I can’t help but feel the pull once more.  It’s time to allow myself to be vulnerable and try again…this time wiser, more experienced than the last.  My only real concern going again this time…I know I’m dealing with a more high-maintenance situation.  It’s true, the attraction is much more natural as I’ve waited for a connection like this one my entire life!  But after a year and a half of living how I have been, I’m not completely sure I’m entirely ready for the western world again.

What keeps us going back when it’s been so rough along the way?  What drives us to want these kinds of experiences?  What can I do to make this time different and more successful than the past?  How can I allow myself to be vulnerable without completely losing all that makes me…me?  These are only few of the many MANY questions that plague my mind going out into the unknown again. 

I feel almost like a traitor to my kind even considering talking about the hard times…but the hard times were at least as frequent as the good ones, and almost no one I’ve met seems to share these kinds of experiences publicly…we seem to only want to share the miraculous moments, or the (sometimes) mirage or what appears to be a glorious moment.  The Instagram, Snapchat and FaceBook posts make it look like every moment is simple, easy, perfect and dreamlike; like nothing terrible ever happens…but that’s simply not true.  The memories of the hard times are what keep me feeling uncertain about the future…the ones that have taught me an extraordinary amount about myself and humanity, but at what cost? 

Don’t get me wrong, not everyone has experiences quite like mine.  I was out for quite a while and my circumstances were extremely different since I ran out of money and had no backup plan.  When I committed to leaving the US and traveling the world…I committed wholeheartedly without a way out.  I knew when I got to the point (that I was dreading) I would figure SOMETHING out.  Call it stupid, naive, ridiculous, irresponsible…I’m sure there are lots of ways to describe it, but that’s what I planned on doing and exactly what I did.  It may not make a whole lot of sense now, but if you read through some of my early posts, you’ll see why I was willing to do it the way I did before and the way I’m willing to do it now. 

The pull for me now is different.  Now I KNOW there’s something out there…that SOMETHING that I’ve been searching for my whole life…that feeling of home.  I know it’s got to be out there for me somewhere.  It’s not a place, a time, an experience, a person or group of people…it’s a combination of them, I think.  What do I know really?  I believe as much or more now than ever that it exists SOMEWHERE…and if I’m willing to make some sacrifices in my life to find it, to do whatever it takes…I can somehow become part of that which I search for. 

This is the moment I try something new, something I haven’t tried before.  I want to know from YOU…where is HOME for you?  What does the idea of that mean to you?  How have you found it, created it, taken part in it?  How can someone discover it, when they’ve searched but haven’t found what they’re looking for?  Genuinely, I’d love to hear your thoughts and feelings on the matter.  Please PM me, leave me a comment…and tell me how this works for you…I’d really love to know!