I used to love coming home from vacation.
The way the plane would swoop over London’s skyscrapers and the River Thames before landing at Heathrow. Returning to my favorite places, people, and my job. Until one day, I burst into tears on a flight home from Italy.
When I turned 30, I thought I had it all with a great career in London managing communications for TV networks. Then my long-term relationship ended. Suddenly, I had to find somewhere else to live and learn how to be alone again.
Meanwhile, the job I loved became increasingly demanding. It all took its toll on my health. I felt sick every day: working late, eating sporadically, and waking in a panic at night. Nothing seemed to make a difference — not therapy, new hobbies, or healthier habits.
One day, friends invited me to go backpacking around Italy. It was the chance to escape my routine and get the fresh perspective I needed, so I joined them in Milan. Together, we explored the country by train: sleeping in hostels, slurping pasta, and dancing into the night.
The trip reignited a spark I hadn’t felt in years
On the plane home, watching Milan’s russet roofs disappear under the clouds, I couldn’t stop the tears. I wanted to stay, as this version of me, one who reminded me of my younger self. When I was a student, I used to walk past a travel agency near my university. I promised myself that one day I’d plan a big adventure. But I never had.
This spark ignited a long-dormant dream of traveling the world. I worried about abandoning the career I’d worked so hard to achieve. But I couldn’t hold on any more to a life I’d fallen out of love with.
I quit my job and booked a round-the-world route spanning nine countries across three continents.
Boarding the plane alone to my first stop in India, I wondered if I’d finally lost my mind.
Each country had a lesson for me
On my first morning, I awoke at a beachside yoga resort in Goa, India to the sound of the waves. Even there, so far from home, my anxiety had disturbed my sleep, as if I’d packed it in my backpack.
But over the next few weeks, practicing yoga and meditation calmed my body and mind. I learned to be spontaneous, to say yes to invitations, and to enjoy the moment. By the time I left a month later, I felt I was leaving behind a piece of my heart.
My next stop was Malaysia, where I took scuba diving lessons. Struggling to breathe underwater, I panicked and almost gave up. Eventually, I got the hang of it and even passed my diving certification. On my 33rd birthday, I arrived in Bali, where I learned to rest and relax.
My yearlong route took me to countries including New Zealand, where I got a temp job in communications, climbed volcanoes, and enjoyed barbecues on the beach with new friends. In Chile, I saw shooting stars over the Atacama Desert, as the vast universe looked down on our small planet.
Returning to the UK, my plane circled over London. The city looked the same, but I was different. I had met a guy from Belgium toward the end of my trip; he had just begun his journey.
We got along so well that we ended up going on trips together and even visited each other in our home countries.
When he got his old job back and moved home, I realized how much I’d miss him. So I faced a choice. Put down my roots again in the UK and try a long-distance relationship, or take a chance. I decided to trust myself one more time.
Once again, I packed my bags, this time for Belgium, a country I’d never considered living in.
Settling in was hard
I didn’t speak the languages and so much was different to what I was used to. But I made friends and rebuilt my communications career in Brussels.
It’s been over 10 years, and we’re still together, living in Belgium. Now I enjoy browsing the weekly markets or sitting on a terrace watching the world go by — even the slow service at restaurants that used to drive me mad. I still love to travel, and now I have someone to share the sunsets with and laugh with when things go wrong.
I still get a happy tingle in my stomach when I travel back to London to visit, and that will never change.
That year taught me that home isn’t only about where you’re born. It’s about where you feel comfortable, through the people and experiences that matter.
You can create a home more than once, in more than one place.
Do you have a story about taking a gap year that you want to share? Get in touch with the editor: akarplus@businessinsider.com.
Read the full article here
