10 Lessons from 2016

1. Get on the plane. There are always going to be things that make you want to wait, make you delay, make you question if this is a good time or not. I had to delay coming to New Zealand a couple times, and almost did a third time, when my boss at work said “Chelsea, there’s always going to be something keeping you here. You just need to go and accept that you’ll miss certain things.” And you do miss things. You miss births and deaths and you miss birthdays and Christmases and events and people and being there for your loved ones when they need you. But we live in the magical, amazing, technological world of smart phones and facetime to keep in touch, and those who love you and care about you will understand your need for missing those things.
2. “You’re not going to die in that library. That’s the thing, no matter how bad things seem, they always work out.” That wise piece of advice was from my mom, who was on the receiving end of a panicked, tear-filled phone call from the Dunedin Central Library back in May when I was tired and broke and homesick and very unsure what my next step would be. That’s become my motto since, whenever I’ve been unsure of my decision or next step or what I’m doing: It always works out, in some way or another, it has to.
3. You’re allowed to miss things. Inevitably, whenever I post something on facebook about how I’m sad to be missing an event or thing back home, I get at least one comment along the lines of: “Ohh boohoo, I’m in New Zealand, my life is so hard.” Yeah, I am in New Zealand. But it’s not all frolicking through fields with sheep (although there definitely is some frolicking). Out of my 11 months here, eight of those have been spent working a normal job, paying normal rent, and living a relatively normal life, even if it is on the other side of the world. And that comes along with normal worries, normal fears, and normal human emotions like being sad you’re missing birthdays or gatherings that you’d normally be at. And that is okay.
4. Regardless of the 12,000km that separates us, my mom still has that magical mom superpower to just happen to be awake 99% of the time I send an “are you still awake? can I call you?” message at 1am (4am her time). And no matter what the situation is, talking to her about whatever it is always seems to help.
5. It’s okay to set an end date. And it’s okay to delay it. “I’ll be home in time for summer.” “I’m going to stay til the end of August and then that’s it.” “I’ll be home no later than my birthday in October.” “I’ll be home by Christmas.”
   For the first eight or so months of this backpacking endeavor, I always had an “end date” set. I now realize that at the time, I needed to have one. It made it easier. Easier to be so far away from home, from my loved ones, and to know when I’d get to go back and see them. After becoming more comfortable backpacking and being away though, I’ve become okay with it not being an exact date in mind, and that’s okay too.
6. Backpacking equals ALL of the emotions. Emotions are so much more intensified when you’re on the road. You make friends faster, you fall in love easier and harder, you feel extreme happiness and extreme sadness. Things that normally wouldn’t phase you do, and things that would normally seem trivial now seem like the world is going to absolutely end. I’ve probably cried more this year – from both happiness and sadness – than I have in the past five years combined. I think it’s because being away from your usual support system back home is hard, especially if you’re traveling on your own. Most of the people you meet are also on the road and therefore not around for long, and when you do settle for a bit your little group of friends becomes this weird, hyper-intense friendship-family. The people that I’ve spent the past seven months with here in Queenstown probably know me better than some friends that I’ve had back home for years. We’re all each other has out here.
   Having things have such a deep impact on your emotional state can be hard sometimes – I remember on one of those 1am phone calls with my mom, I said something to the effect of, “And you know what the WORST part is?! I’M MAD THAT I’M SO MAD! I don’t WANT to be mad/care/let it effect me!” To which she calmly reminded me that just cause I’m travelling doesn’t mean I’m not a human anymore, and humans feel things, for better or for worse. And that’s okay.
7. No matter how much you hate McDonald’s (or Maccas, as they call it down here in the southern hemisphere), a Big Mac, medium fries, and frozen coke can cure even the ugliest of hangovers. Also, what they say is true: hangovers do get way worse with age.
8. It’s okay to be selfish. Do what you want. Go where you want. Explore. Discover. Learn. I’m one who is a carer – I generally put other’s happiness before my own and want to make sure everyone else is happy and having a good time – but it’s okay to take care of yourself and your own wants and needs too. Don’t feel obligated to go along with plans you don’t want to do. And don’t miss out on things because others don’t want go with you or you don’t have someone to go with. Some of my best adventures over the past year – Bay of Islands, Milford Sound – they were on my own, and I would classify those days as being some of the best of my life.
9. I am terrible at updating my blog/YouTube/Instagram/various other social media/journal regularly. And that is okay.
10. Be yourself. This year is the first time in my entire life where I can truthfully say that I have been 100% comfortable with who I am. I’ve embraced my nerd side. I don’t care what people think when I wear my stormtropper leggings or talk a little too enthusiastically about Harry Potter or that I was, and still am, a huge Clay Aiken fan. And you know what? I’ve still met amazing friends. People still like hanging out with me. Guys are still interested in me. And it feels so, so wonderful to not have to hide or downplay certain parts of what makes me, well, me.
    They say that backpacking or long term travel usually results in “finding yourself.” At first I didn’t get that – I was waiting for this big change or moment of realization – but now, looking back, I get it. I didn’t find myself necessarily, but that’s cause I was never lost. What I’ve found is comfort and peace and acceptance with who I am, and there’s no better lesson that I could have hoped to take away from the first year of this journey. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings. Hopefully more regular blog updates to start 😉