Last night I saw “Wild” starring Reese Witherspoon (based on this true story) and, unbeknownst to my friend who I saw it with and only rated it a 4 out of 10, I really liked it. It wasn’t because Reese was in it or because other people liked it, it was because I enjoy introspective movies. I saw myself in Reese’s portrayal of Cheryl Strayed.
No, I haven’t lost my mother (I did lose my dad when I was 6) or tried heroin or even cheated on a boyfriend or husband, so how did I relate? I understood that feeling of being lost, of not knowing who I am, of ‘wishing’ I could take a long hike to sort out my feelings and, ultimately, scream into the mountains and let it all out.
When I was young I dreamt of a life of travel around the world, meeting interesting people and making a living writing about my experiences. I didn’t want to go to college. I felt that ‘life’ would give me my experiences and knowledge of what I needed to know to survive. (Remember Natalie on “The Facts of Life,” back in the 1980s? I totally identified with her character when she wanted to do the same thing.)
There were no ‘travel writing’ college courses back then that I knew of or ‘How to Make it as a Freelancer’ major in college. I knew that’s what I wanted, but there wasn’t anyone to really show me how to do it. I felt a bit forced to go to college because that’s what we were supposed to do. Even though I grew up in the 80s, I was told that women had better chances of getting a job if we went to college. So I scrapped the idea of traveling and working whatever jobs I could to go to college. Sadly, due to life circumstances, I am STILL paying off those loans and never once have had to use my college degree to get a job.
When I was 19, I did take a great trip to California with a friend of mine which I treasure to this day. I felt free. I was 19 and booked it all, paid for it and said, “I’m doing this.” It was fantastic. We had a great time.
When I got back, I got a job in New York City, worked a few years and hoped to travel again. I took some small trips, but nothing like that same feeling I had in California. Later, I got married, had a great honeymoon and went to Disney. Great trips, but I was always yearning for something bigger, freer, with that spirit that a travel writer has. I would dream of making a living off of travel writing and, hopefully, writing scripts about people I met and things I experienced.
Fast forward to 1999 – three children and a wonderful marriage. It was fantastic, but losing my husband suddenly changed all of that. I went into ‘robot’ mode and took care of the kids and the house and my career (yes, I’m still a writer, but there’s a difference between writing articles about orthodontia or property management or the newest trends in swimming pools just to pay bills and writing about things you really want to write about).
We took a few trips, but somewhere along the way I feel like I lost that spirit inside of me. Grief will do that to you and it’s understandable, but I had to do what I had to do for the last 14 years. At the time I even started one of the most popular sites on the interview for young widows/widowers to help myself and others.
The kids and I took small trips which I wrote about in The Virgin Traveler before, but again, nothing like I wanted. I wanted to be like those other family bloggers who have taken their kids all over the place. Hard to do when you need enough money to do it. I had some, but not nearly enough. So I had to work and then life problems and then more work and more life problems and a trip, but more life ….. well, you get the picture. Again, I stayed on robot mode because raising my kids did mean more to me than a trip, but I still feel like something is ‘missing.’
There’s a backpacking travel writer inside of me. There’s the “Eat Pray Love” writer inside me who just takes off to rediscover herself and there is definitely the “Under the Tuscan Sun” writer inside of me. There’s a “rent an RV and see the world” traveler inside of me. There’s that ‘leave it all behind and just go somewhere’ traveler inside of me. There’s the Cheryl Strayed traveler inside of me who lives with regrets about what I did/didn’t do/didn’t say when my husband was sick and would like to stand on a mountain top and scream it all out of me.
I’m currently ghostwriting a self-help book with someone and learned about chronic fight-or-flight syndrome, where basically you’re always keyed up waiting for the other shoe to drop – ALL THE TIME. I didn’t realize that was me and it’s not good for your body. In my life, so much has gone wrong trying to do one thing that meant so much to me when I was younger that I feel like I’m perpetually waiting for it to happen again. I’m heading into the year of my big travels, FINALLY. I have arrived, but my mind keeps saying, “What’s going to stop me now?” When I started this blog, I heard from other people who felt the same way about their goals and dreams. They were sure that something was going to get in the way.
Life will get in the way again, somehow. It’s almost definite that something will break inside my house and need fixing or a client won’t pay me on time, but I’m going to keep trying. I guess that’s all I can do. My kids are older and are amazing and I’m really proud of them. I’m in a great relationship and my honey understands my dream.
I’ve sacrificed and I still have a lot of work to do to get rid of debt and take care of my home, but I’m turning 50 this year. I’ve never been the person to say “oh I have to do this and that by the time I’m 50” but my youngest will be off to college and I’ll have the time, so it worked out that way. I’m not that young girl anymore who had those dreams. I older and still feel a bit lost and am nervous. Last night I even got a lesson in booking flights on all these new websites that are out there and I was overwhelmed. Overwhelming leads to questioning things I’m doing, and I still feel a bit like Cheryl Strayed, but this blog was a start and I definitely feel a spark inside of me. I’ve planned out my trips for the year and more opportunities are starting to arrive. So, I’m on my way I think….what about you?
(P.S.: As I post this, I’m starting to notice that our hot water isn’t as hot as it used to be…let the journey begin!)
