This morning as I drank that first, religious cup of coffee, I found myself opening my web browser and searching for flights. With 10 months down on my year-long exchange, I'll be moving on to the next destination soon.
It all went by very fast, as time seems to do in its strange, somehow also-creeping way. This morning I am reflecting on my time spent here and coming up... disappointed. The last year in Holland has been a bit of a dud, if I'm being honest. Getting kicked out of my first host parents' house, surviving a very non-ideal Dutch winter, dealing with the changes COVID insisted humanity make, and now watching my country from afar as they fight, yell, plead and hate has made it hard to stay positive. In addition to outward influences, I do a pretty good job of making myself miserable, which I guess means that I'm just like everyone else on the planet. I decided a couple months after moving here that I needed to pursue the ultimate dream: digital nomadship. I spent a majority of my free time working. (You can take the girl out of America, but you can't take America out of the girl). While I spent a lot of time chasing stable income, I felt guilty for how much of my time I wasn't spending exploring the country.
Besides all of this, I've been incredibly lonely; both love-sick for my ex and home-sick for everyone else I care about who are spattered in different places around the globe - mainly, not where I am. I do have a few really good friends here whom I love dearly, but I have to admit, I am already hurting from missing them, and I haven't even left yet.
People often tell me how lucky I am to travel, how proud they are of me that I make it all work and how happy they are that I am gaining all this life experience. Of course, I know I am blessed, and I am proud of myself, too, because what didn't happen by chance that has allowed me to stay safe and adventuring has been a product of my own very hard work. But... it's really not all rainbows and butterflies.
Some days I wonder, why have all these adventures, if I have no one to share them with? Every single one of my best friends lives in my phone. When I explore a new city, I am the only one there. And let me tell you what, I am sick of going on first dates. I just want to be around people who know me. I want to be needed-- do a favor for a neighbor, bring a dish to a potluck, talk about mundane things or babysit my friend's kid.
Today, I know that this is true: you can run, but you can't hide from life's troubles. Even a year spent abroad in a European city can't make me happy just on its merits. So instead of trying to power through it, continuing on with the facade of my wonderful, romantic European life, I think I'll go back home to Eastern Oregon for a while. To be with family, to rest and find respite, to be needed and to lean on others, to be where I am understood.
