Today I had the grand realization that I am alone. Sure, I have family and friends, but mostly I’m a loner. I live alone. I eat alone. My closest family is hours from me and I only have a handful of friends. My local friends are mostly situational. I consider someone a “situational friend” when I don’t see the likelihood of continued contact once I move, and believe me I will move.
I live in a gorgeous little ocean side town with all the amenities that people would pay large sums to enjoy. The homes cost a fortune and, thus, I am forced to live in a less than desirable little apartment. Still I love it because it’s perfectly imperfect but makes no claim for greatness. Theres real beauty in that.
So if this location is so amazing why do I want to leave? It’s not about wanting to, it’s about NEEDING to. I see all to often this romanticized view of “wanderlust” without any sort of real understanding of the truth of its existence. A Situational Friend once told me that he had wanderlust… he’s lived in the same place for 20 years.
Conversely, Wanderlust in its true form is more than the desire to travel. For me it is a necessity. In the past 10 years I have not stayed in any particular location for more than a year. I genuinely LOVE every place I’ve lived in but being confined to one particular place makes it feel as though my address is a serial number branding me to that location. I cannot handle this. I need to move, to grow, to change. Most people are afraid of change, and really it’s quite terrifying. I promise, every time I migrate somewhere new I fear the unknown with every ounce of my being. Then I close my eyes and jump.
I need freedom. I crave adventure. This is wanderlust. Its more than a want or a dream, it’s a legitimate need; often larger than the need for food or sleep. I’m plagued by it and now I invite you to join my journey. I am Rachael.