Monday 17 February 2014

Travelling: It's Hard Sometimes, Okay?




It's been over two months since I left Wales for Australia and adventure. It's been an interesting time, and not always the easiest or happiest. I never expected a move like this to be easy, but I hadn't imagined it could be so hard either.

The biggest thing that I've learned is that just because you speak the same language as someone, it doesn't mean you aren't going to experience cultural differences. Just because you are outgoing and friendly, it doesn't mean it will be easy to make friends. And just because you are in love, it doesn't mean life will remove obstacles for you.

I've been afraid to write a post about finding life here hard, because it kind of feels like defeat, like I'm not worldly enough, like I'm not cut out for travelling. But the truth, I think, is that everyone living in another country experiences many of the same problems and difficulties as I have and do, but they don't want to talk about it. There is this pressure to be having the time of your life, to be lying in the sun drinking cocktails and making memories every second of every day. But that just isn't the reality. So much of this adventure is incredible and beautiful, but some of it is hard, just like life at home.

It wasn't until very recently that I made any friends of my own. And it wasn't easy to do, living in an intrinsic community where everyone already has their own friends. I ventured an hour away to a backpackers haven with my book and went and sat in bars until someone invited me to join them. And it worked. But even as an outgoing person, it kind of took a lot of lady-balls to put myself out there like that. I am just lucky that some lovely people saw me and understood my call for help, as such.

Having an independent social life is very important to me, I need to have my own friends and hobbies to function as a normal human being. And credit where credit is due - my man-friend has had to put up with a fair amount of crazy from my previously socially-deprived self. I can kind of lose grip on my own mind when I have to process all of my feelings intrinsically. And I'm happy to admit that as a flaw in my personality. My mind just bloody thinks too much when it doesn't have other minds to stabilise it and reason with it.

But things are looking up: I've met some lovely people, who I can see have good hearts and good intentions, and who understand what it's like to be floating about on your own in the midst of life away from home.

I should say, in fact, I NEED to say, that things are not  'bad'. I am having a glorious time. I've got a good job, a great internship, a nice house to live in, a good man, bloody lovely weather, well behaved skin, and new friends. I have seen some beautiful places and enjoyed some really special moments since being here. I am living a magical existence here. And I am careful to count my blessings and be grateful for all of the things I have been afforded in life.

I guess that what I'm trying to say is that it's okay to find things hard when you're away. It's okay to miss farting on your best friends face whilst hungover. It's okay to miss your two year old nephew and to worry desperately that he will forget about you. It's okay to miss pissing-down rain and hat hair and complaining about the weather.
Bloody hell, I miss my family more than anything, I miss the feeling that their love gives me - that feeling that you are floating in a protective layer of unconditional support and kindness. And I know they send it to me everyday, but there's something special about drinking wine with your mum in your pj's watching some weird, low budget film wrapped in blankets. There is something special about trying to be a grown up with your Brother, when you know you have the most fun just winding your parents up and pissing each other off debating bloody recycling. Nothing is the same as a cuddle off your Dad when you're having a shit day, even though you're 23 and it took you bloody 20 years to work out how to have a functional relationship with him to start with.

I have a really, really special person by my side here. I wont write too much about him because I can only imagine the cringe it must induce having a girlfriend who writes publicly about periods and farting and FEELINGS. But he's a good egg, that boy, and I think he deserves a blow job.

That's all for now from a reflective, dangerously honest, but happy JoJo

xxx