I’ve never been the kind of person who is afraid to do something on her own, so when it came to me purchasing a one-way ticket to Australia this came to no surprise to my friends and family. Traveling has always been something I felt I had to do, I felt it deep in my core, it is and always has been a part of who I am.
It’s possible that what led me to take off for a year+ post-college was the need to heal after losing my mom to a long battle with cancer, but if I’m being completely honest with myself, I would have gone either way. I have always felt that there is something more out there to experience, different cultures I needed to be a part of, people I needed to meet. But, I digress. I boarded the Virgin Australia flight to the land down under, one-way ticket in hand, a single (over-packed) bag by my side, a stomach full of tequila, and a heart full of excitement.
Australia wasn’t what I expected. Wherever you go, this is usually the case. The “culture shock” one may experience while backpacking Thailand or Colombia wasn’t there, though I don’t think I’ve ever felt that shock entirely. For me, the real experience was in the people.
The backpacker community is a unique crowd of travelers. Each person has their own reasons for embarking on their journey, their own personal legend. From Ireland to Finland to South Africa, there was always something to teach, to learn, and to bond over. The human values are intrinsically there, whether the language or political views differ. People are just trying to figure themselves out and make sense of their worlds.
When it comes to friendships, there isn’t a deeper or less judgmental one than the ones I grew with my fellow vagabonds. Connections formed on the foundation of self-discovery, turbulent plans, and mutual perseverance in the face of loss are forever bonds. With all of the reasons for leaving home, we found a home in each other.
“Why did you come to Australia?” The question was asked and answered a thousand times. My answer: “To escape real life while I can.” I had no idea of knowing how false this answer would become. In the states, we are taught the ideal path for all of us is to graduate with a useful degree, work, marry, work some more. I needed to really, truly live before I settled down this road because I already knew how abruptly it could end.
While “escaping” life, I learned that “real life” isn’t working a 9-5 job. It’s anything you want it to be. Traveling, living abroad, picking up work on the go, that’s still real life, it just may not be for everyone. It took me a long time to finally grasp the concept that I had the power to carve my own direction instead of following the one my parents, society, and I had already made.
The time I spent engaging in contrasting cultures, laughing with strangers-turned-lifelong-friends, and exploring my outside and inner worlds, led me to heal the parts of me I didn’t know needed healing. Traveling solo gave me the confidence to continue my odyssey, physically and metaphorically. If I hadn’t bought that one-way ticket to the sunny southern hemisphere, there is no telling where I would be now (maybe I’d actually have a career), but I couldn’t be happier with my decision to take the leap and get out there on my own way.
