I've lived abroad for most of my adult life. When I travelled on a plane for the first time, about to go to a country by myself I felt no fear. Being in the huge Dubai airport having only been in an airport once, several hours before, I felt no fear. And trying to scrape together the cash to keep on living in the countries I loved I felt no fear. Yet every time I came back to England I always felt a huge dread deep in the pit of my stomach. Buying a plane ticket home, making future plans in my home country and stepping foot back on English soil never failed to elicit this feeling. I put it down to having had some less than favourable memories of the country. A large part of it was due to associating England with failure. If I were to go home and stay there I knew something had gone very wrong in my life, or I had just given up trying to follow my passions and dreams.
So returning to England August of this year you can imagine the kind of inner turmoil raising its nasty head. Telling me I was making a mistake by being here. That I could have a better life if I avoided my country at all costs. I very almost listened to it. The last country I had visited had been Australia. I have a long and fantastic history with that country. The very word sends my mind spinning with memories of days at the beach, road trips in the steaming summer, beautiful little coffee shops in Sydney's suburbs and a great many nights out. I'd lived there for two years and have a close-knit friend group whom I rarely get to see. Every time I have to leave Australia it breaks my heart. So, while once again saying goodbye to my friends at the airport, I vowed to come back for a more permanent arrangement.
Then I arrived back in England with plans to instantly leave circling my head sickeningly. I researched visas, flights, living arrangements and even managed to secure a job. A week in my family wanted to go on holiday to the Yorkshire Dales. We're big campers and I hadn't had the chance to join in on a family holiday for the past four years so I jumped at the chance. There's just something so refreshing about being away from a structured home environment, where you can't access the internet and have to leg it to the toilet at night in freezing cold temperatures. The Yorkshire Dales was everything I needed and more. I reconnected with my family and friends, worked out what I want to do with my life and inspired me to set up goals. It calmed me down and allowed me to once again fall in love with my own country.
Now I have no future plans to travel. I'm excited to go on weekends away to European cities and hike in the labyrinthine Lake District but for now I'm keeping my feet on the ground. I'm going to find a cosy little flat and take classes in my spare time. I'm going to learn languages and work somewhere I love. I'm going to show myself what England can offer, that it's not a place of chains but never-ending possibilities.
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