6 Months of Eat Pray Love-ing

Day 183 – Taganga, Colombia

It’s six months and I’m still alive! The post title should really be Eat Drink Dance or Eat Drink Eat More but you get the idea.

Marking this occasion I’m reminded of the Christmas before my travels when my mother gave me Eat Pray Love.

I hadn’t heard of the book but she saw it on Oprah and thought I’d enjoy the travel aspect of it.

Although already an experienced travel, the part that spoke to me was before she left the country.

It was the promise she had made to start trying to have children but not feeling like she was ready.

It was the hesitancy to change her life.

I remember the book fondly, not because the travel stories resonated, but the inner dialogue of feeling lost.

Who I was a year ago:

I was doing well in a career but didn’t know what I wanted out of it. I felt like I wasn’t learning or contributing and often unhappy that I was wasting my time.

I was in a relationship that was often tumultous and I wasn’t sure if I should stay in it.

There was love between two people too stubborn and afraid to make it work. 

I was starting to feel the fertility walls caving in, constantly recalculating how much time I had before I needed to make a decision of whether I would have children or not.

I wasn’t happy.

I didn’t know the right answers. I had no idea what I wanted and needed someone to tell me what to do.

That wasn’t going to happen.

I was afraid of regret. I needed to escape.

So I left.

And while it may not have been the right thing for everyone. It was right for me. I know it’s selfish and I’m okay with that.

And today:

It’s an odd metaphor but traveling is akin to peeling an onion.

I have been slowly sheding the layers that really don’t matter. Being in another country I no longer need to carry the self-imposed expectations of what I should be or what I should do.

At times it’s been painful, dealing with raw feelings often resulting in tears, but things are slowly becoming clearer.

I’m starting to realize what I want out of life. The need to escape is slowly fading.

I don’t know what the ultimate answer is but I feel like I’m getting closer and this is only 6 months in.

Thanks for sharing in this journey with me.

All of your kind comments and support during my bitching when I have emotional breakdowns about trivial things, like holes in my pants, mean the world to me.