The struggle of distance

Last updated: 29 July 2023

I read somewhere that perception is reality.  As I look around, begin to question everything and wonder what I actually see anymore.

I don’t find myself writing all that often about personal matters, but sometimes they’re the things that keep you up at night.

I thought it would make my heart sing

Being abroad can be so many things.  For me, it was the draw-card of exploration and the unknown.  It was the gateway to some amazing experiences, right on my doorstep, all ready and waiting to be had.   That should be all I need in life, I was sure that’s what would make me happy, what would make my life complete.

I have to say,  I find many people look through the window into my life and see a permanently half-packed suitcase, a passport filled with stamps, an Instagram page with images from around the globe.  But like everything, there’s always another side.  It’s the things they don’t see.  The missed opportunities and experiences of major events, birthdays, weddings, births and sometimes deaths.  These things all come and go as life continues to roll by with, or without me.

Is it a #FoMo?

Even though we live in an era where you can be as present as you want to be, but often there’s that something still missing from life.  Is it a valid fear of missing out or is it completely unfounded. An answer, I’m still searching for.  What I did discover, was that a moment comes over you, like a wave,  when you realise how far away you are to support your family & friends, and also, to have them support you. Being 30+ hours from your nearest and dearest can sometimes takes its toll.

Everything begins with a decision

I chose to travel at a time in my life when the majority of people in my life are getting married, having babies and taking a different path.  I’ll admit it, it’s tough.  As happy as I am for each and every one of them, I can’t always be there to share in their joy.  I always find that stings a bit. It’s not that I don’t want to be there, but it’s not always possible.

A helmet protects the softness within

I always found this the hardest pill to swallow.  I call them lies, but so many people refer to it as something with a more positive overtone.

For transparency I’m going to say this, I come from a great family.  We’re the stock standard, cookie-cutter mould you see in most suburban families in Australia. My friends, my true friends, I can count on one hand.  I know who they are and they know they matter.  They’re the ones that turn up with wine and a box of tissues, and they never got an invite.  So no,  I don’t have a sob story about brutal divorce or a tear jerker of a tale about that time our dog ran away because that never happened.  What I do have, is a group of people that love me so much, they shelter me.  Shelter me from the truth.

It’s these very people, the ones that shelter you, are often doing so from themselves or someone they know.  Perhaps someone is sicker than portrayed, perhaps that scan did show a growth, or perhaps someone really needed help from you but couldn’t find a way to ask for it.  Phrases like “you’re so far away”, “I didn’t want to worry you”, or the old adage; “there’s nothing you could have done”, are ones I’ve heard before. Hear me now, I don’t care for any of them.

Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual

So some days, I sit and question it.  I question my life. I question the choices I have made. I question why I don’t seem to fit in a 2×2 house with a white picket fence, an SUV and a tyre swing in the front yard.  And that should be OK… right?  I find myself tossing over the concept of selfishness.  Is it selfish to want something different for my life? I dared to be different, and find myself actively avoiding what feels to be the socially acceptable path.

The choices we make for our own lives often have repercussions on others. It just seems as I get older, those repercussions become stronger and louder.

Finding the harmony

Have I found my balance? No, I don’t think I have.  I often fool myself into the ideal that I have life all sorted, labelled and categorised, but in reality I don’t.  The satisfaction in my choices is a fleeting memory.

Your voice:

Have you found your peace? Did you buck a social norm to find it?