The Decision for Long-Term Travel

Sep 6

Sep 6 The Decision

The Decision for Long Term Travel

I was always too afraid to study abroad. Me. The girl who left everything to travel around the world, was too afraid to study abroad. I was too afraid of missing out on something, disappointing someone. The fear of the unknown, leaving my comfort zone for something far away and unfamiliar. How would I be able to go that far away from family? How would I ever be able to handle packing for that long? I seemed to forget that people lived in these places, that stores existed, that many students had done this before.

I would often throw out the idea though. I was great at ‘looking into it’ and then finding far too many excuses as to why I shouldn’t do it. I’ll miss the UNC football season, I’ll have to find someone to sublet my room, I’ll have to take this one class a semester later, were all convenient excuses that I would come up with to mask my fears. (Everyone knows it’s actually UNC Basketball that would be a crime to miss, not football).

Flash forward to 2010, when I had just graduated from UNC and was getting my dental hygiene license. Somewhere, deep down inside of me, I still had that itch. I decided I was going to move to Hawaii, and persuaded my friend Kimmy to come with me. I even went as far as having another friend who lived on Oahu to go look at apartments for me. Hawaii was an adventure, but somehow it being a part of the U.S. felt less intimidating. Then the fear set in. The easy thing to say was, “I graduated in a recession, so if I don’t get a job by December, I’ll go.” I don’t even know if I really meant it, but I wanted to believe that I did.

I ended up starting a job at an awesome dental office in October 2010, and needless to say, I did not move to Hawaii. But that did not mean that the desire disappeared. It wasn’t that I truly wanted to do the hula on Hawaii forever, but just to explore and get a sense of what life feels like elsewhere. You see, I am what we North Carolinians call a Charlotte Unicorn. Born and raised between Charlotte and Lake Norman. Rare. The furthest away I had ever lived was 2 hours northeast in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, during my university years.

It’s not that I disliked home. It’s actually quite the contrary, I love home. I love the people, the four seasons, the food (N.C. BBQ anyone?), my family living close by, my job, and my patients, many of whom I considered family after 9 years. But I also love the feeling of experiencing new cultures, trying all of the food, shopping in grocery stores, and sitting in cafes trying to feel like a local.

I remember being in Chile with Lauren and Carolyn, and meeting people who were traveling through South America for months at a time. Or the lady who taught the cooking class who had taken a risk and moved to Easter Island for a year just to try something different. I remember the feeling of jealousy that these people were so brave, far more brave than I could ever be.

Then Mike came along. He too has a love for traveling and exploring, but also has a soft spot for Charlotte. He had a great job with great co-workers. And after five years together, we still light up when packing our bags and going just about anywhere.

In 2018, we hit a series of health related speed bumps including me being diagnosed with Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EoE) and Mike having to have surgery for a herniated disc in his back. Then earlier this year, I unexpectedly lost someone very dear to me. That experience really shook me, and reminded me to live in the moment because each day is a gift. I can’t begin to count the number of times I have heard people say they were working hard now to be able to travel when they retire. We have decided to start enjoying that now, while we have our health, mobility and energy. If we are in the position to do it again later, then even better. But for now, we will live with no regrets. For years, I had let fear stop me and I already regretted that. I didn’t want to continue that pattern.

Mike and I knew taking this leap would be possible with children, but much more difficult, so now was the time to do it. Neither of us forced one another or dissuaded the other, but just encouraged one another and talked through the pros and cons. I can’t tell you how many times the fear crept in, even up until the last day. “Are we crazy? Are we making a mistake? Will we ever be able to retire if we leave our jobs now?” This time, for each fear, there was an answer. “The craziest thing would be for us to never take this chance and regret it for the rest of our lives.” “The mistake would be to not try it. The worst thing that could happen is that we won’t enjoy the experience and we come back home. Home will always be there.” “We have set ourselves up well and made smart decisions. You can always find another job but you can never get time back.”

So, we found a tenant to rent our house, sold some things, put a lot more in storage, left our jobs, and took a leap of faith. I am not going to lie, it wasn’t easy. I also am not naive enough to believe I won’t ask Mike “Are we crazy?” and “Did we make a mistake?” multiple more times. But for now, in this moment, I am proud. I am proud of us, of me, for overcoming our fears, and for trusting each other to follow our dreams.