In 2015, I was finishing up a one-year Work and Holiday Visa in Australia. I had spent the five years between college graduation and that point focused largely on long-term travel: basing myself at home in upstate New York while trip planning, leaving for several months, and then returning home to save money and seek out the next opportunity.
I had no clue what was coming after Australia. It had been an exhilarating, beautiful, challenging, lonely, eye-opening, perfectly imperfect year. I loved the laidback, nature-centric, beach-filled way of life that had become my norm. I loved experiencing new things every single day – big and small, good and bad – and regularly feeling out of my element.
But I felt a little tired, too.