7 October 2018


It’s been 202 days. In that time, I have felt ecstatic happiness and suicidal-thought-filled sadness and all that is in between. 202 days ago I was in my bedroom at my parents house, exhausted, depressed, lacking any kind of motivation. As I write this now, I am sat on the back of a yacht watching a plane fly through a pink and orange sunset sky over the faint buzz of Ibiza night life starting up, whilst the adorable baby I am looking after is sound asleep downstairs. Funny how things can change, huh.

From the date of my last published post, I had started to feel a little better with my regular days working in retail and a little bit of photography work, all just about keeping my bank balanced. I had a small amount of guaranteed money, working with wonderful people in a shop I adored, as well as having a little creative outlet and spare cash through odd photography jobs. I started to feel settled and comfortable with how life was going. “Yes I was still single and still in debt and living back at home, but this nice routine makes that ok” I thought.

After paying off what was left of my debt and saving up a little travel money, I decided it was time to book my first solo trip. I knew for a while that I wanted to do a little bit of travelling alone but wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far out of my comfort zone for my first experience. I booked a week away to Portugal in April, in a lovely hotel and a lovely location and it was all just that, lovely. The week wasn’t necessarily spectacular or life changing itself but it meant I had got over the first hurdle of travelling alone.

Two days later, I was depressed again. Something about coming out of that settled life for just a week reminded me of what I really wanted to spend my time doing. Travelling. I didn’t want to be the person who works away for months on end to only go away for a week a year. I want to travel, see a different country every month, to get an idea of what’s actually in the world. Settled, nice, routine, balanced, comfortable. These are not words I want my life described as and I was not going to let myself become trapped.

Two weeks later and I’d handed in my notice at work, pondered on how I’d go about travelling whilst earning money based on my previous experience, singed up to an au pair website having worked a lot with children, and after chatting for a few days with a family, had a flight booked to Italy at the end of May. Sometimes you need to grab your life by the balls, rip it and jumble it up, and sew it back how you actually want it. And yes, it can be scary because what if it doesn’t work? What if you mess up something you had that was alright and got you by? Well then you grab it, you rip it, you mix it and you sew it again and again until you find your answer.

Since then, I’ve visited Italy, Cyprus, Mallorca twice, Spain and Portugal again with Monaco and Russia booked next. Some holidays, some from au pair work, but all exactly what I needed. I still do my photography work in between times when at home in the UK and have time to myself and friends. I’m still single (although I’ve started to long for a partner quite a bit recently) and am still in debt. I miss my Mum and family when I’m away, I don’t make much money and I getting a little tired of living out of a hand luggage size suitcase. But I am happy. And that is more or less the only thing that matters.


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  2. Glad you're doing something you enjoy.

    Best of luck.

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