I have now been back in Australia (after my *I'm moving to Europe* phase lasted only 18 months) for over a year. Something kind of strange has happened to me. It used to be that dreaming of travel and planning for travel were pretty much my only passions, the only things that could really cheer me up after a bad day and the things I looked forward to in my future.
Recently I have realised that when I try to imagine possible future travel adventures I just feel tired. I think of staying in a hostel dorm and wistfully fantasising about an eight hour sleep, I think of dragging my suitcase/backpack up never-ending flights of stairs, I think of struggling to work out the public transport timetable in an unknown language. And it all makes me feel tired. I have lost my ability for escapism. My friends tell me that is all good: it means I am settled, content.
No. It is an identity crisis. I thought I knew who I was - the girl who was always dreaming of new places, of adventure, of the rush of culture shock. But now I'm the girl who is seemingly settled into a life with no career, no partner, and no big dream. How effing boring. When did I stop panicking about not knowing what to do with my life?
This Summer I will be away from uni for at least three and a half months. Maybe during that time I will figure out what it is that is making me content. Being content with no obvious improvements to my life is really confusing me.
My Photo of Paris
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