Hey… hey you! Yeah you! It’s me.  Yeah, you might not remember me.  You used to read my blog all the time right?  At least twice a week you’d tune in for a new post about which mountain I had climbed that weekend or where I recommended getting a good cup of coffee.  

It saddens me to put into words that I have not published a blog post in nearly two years.

I used to hit the coffee shop 2-4 hours before my full time job to sit and write, promote, and connect every single day.  And I fucking loved it.  Whenever I wasn’t blogging, I thought about blogging.  What I could turn into a story, where could I go that was new and fresh, etc.  Each day I woke with a thirst to explore something or somewhere new, camera in hand, and share it with you all.

It didn’t matter to me whether no one was reading what I wrote or looking at my photos.  I was on a quest for adventure, from New Zealand to Vietnam to the UK and even right back at home in New England.  The incredible thing is that people were reading what I had to say.  Family, friends, friends of friends, and total strangers were contacting me for travel advice regarding visas, packing, itineraries.  Everything. And I loved it.  Until one day I didn’t.

At the start of 2018, I moved to Adelaide, Australia and the blogs not only stopped, the hunger for adventure simply wasn’t there.  I barely took my camera anywhere.  I worked three jobs with one day off (completely my choice, hi, I’m a workaholic) every single week.  Almost none of the items of my To See list in Australia were crossed off and I went out a lot.  

Now I am not saying I had a problem per se, but the drinking culture in Australia, particularly within the bartender scene, to quote Lorelai Gilmore, ‘seems benign, but packs a wallop like a donkey kick.’  This is a topic I want to explore thoroughly in its own special blog post because I found that when I expressed my innermost feelings with many of my peers, I wasn’t alone.

In some ways, my time in Adelaide felt more like an in-between stage from where I was to where I am going.  There were times when I felt like I barely touched what the city and country had to offer.  Equally, there were times when I felt like I was just living in the moment, enjoying myself and my friends rather than thinking about how it could be a story.

On the upside, ya’ll, I read a lot.  Boy did I burn through the books.  Reading kept me sane during a time in which I felt so lost and confused.  I let myself feel inspired organically again by writers whom I admire.  I joined #Bookstagram.  I let myself be free from pressure to do what I felt I was supposed to do and just explored whichever interests appealed to me, from taking a wine course to picking up another job to fill my time to training and running races.

Writing went from relaxing activity that filled my days with joy to another item on a to-do list.  I experienced endless guilt and anxiety if I didn’t reach the deadlines I set for myself.  Once I inevitably missed these deadlines, I stopped myself from writing to prevent further anxiety.  I stopped thinking about the blog.

But here I am, BACK AT IT AGAIN, and I need to share my adventures and inspiration yet again.  SO MUCH has happened in the last two years. Since 2018, I’ve moved countries… twice. I hope you’ll all follow along with me again (and maybe we’ll get some new readers this time around?!).

Until then… follow my daily highlights on Instagram, eh?