new year, new you?

As I sit here alone on the night of New Years, I reflect on all events that have occurred in the last 12 months, and I am grateful for the chance to start a fresh new year in a few hours. I chose to spend New Years alone, not for lack of parties I have been invited to, but for the chance to end my worst year on record by myself, in my own way, on my own terms. I spent the better half of my year catering someone else, when I should have been continuing to be the independent person I have always been. I made the choice to scramble around to save a relationship, that wasn't really worth trying to save. It's funny how we do that, we can feel it slipping away and we grasp at anything to hold on, but when one person checks out, is it really worth being a part of anyways? I have come to that realization lately, that maybe I am in love with the person I fell in love with, but not the person he has become. And that's okay. But what matters is loving yourself more than anything. And I never really did stop loving myself.

So for my new year's night, I choose to sit on my couch, with a movie on, and I have applied to about 10-15 schools overseas for the new school year (August/September 2015) and wrote a strong piece of writing for a writing contest that I have been meaning to enter but never felt inspired to do until tonight. I have also chosen to keep my phone up in my room, away from me, and at some point in the night, or early tomorrow morning, I will deactivate my Facebook account and delete my instagram app. This has been something I have been struggling with on and off, for most of the year really. I enjoy the accessibility of keeping in touch with friends, especially being someone who is constantly moving across the world and/or country. Having met so many people in my life, and in my travels especially, who live so far away, social media has always been a way to keep in touch, without a lot of effort really needed to do so. But in the grand scheme of things, is that really keeping in touch? If we want to keep in touch with someone, for real, do we need to see all they post on Facebook or instagram? Don't get me wrong, I know I post a lot, on both. I enjoy sharing my photos of my adventures, and a selfie or two or three. I am not opposed to that. It's the lack of real communication that I find disheartening. We find out our friends are engaged/pregnant/moving/happy/sad.. and so on, by reading our news feeds. We no longer tell each other on the phone or face to face, everyone will know your news with the click of a mouse. We no longer send letters or postcards, we can easily see pictures from your trip on instagram or read about your life in your Facebook status. We torture ourselves with creeping people's social media that we really don't actually want to look at. And even if we don't creep, it's rubbed in our faces in other ways. We can't escape it. No matter what we do, we know everything about everyone, even the people we would rather avoid. And that's the way the world works right now. And some may say I am hypocritical to complain, as I sit and write personal information on this very blog, and maybe you are right. But I choose to write about my journey because I enjoy the art of writing. I don't believe this is the equivalent to a personal Facebook status that some would say is "TMI". Or a revealing selfie showing off a little more of my body than should be shared on instagram.

It bothers me a little that some people may think I deleted them as a way to seek attention, or what have you. It bothers me that some people are probably talking about me right now saying 'did you see Sara is deleting her social media? I bet it's because… (whatever reason you may be thinking)' or 'I don't think Sara will last very long off social media'. And that's fair. Everyone is welcome to judge me as they please. I do use social media quite a bit. I enjoy sharing my adventures through pictures on instagram, especially having improved upon my photography skills. I enjoy sharing the things my students say to me that I find amusing, as I know others will too. I post a lot, and I am not ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong with that. So if you are on social media, post away. As long as you are posting in a positive way. There's a tendency to use social media negatively. I see people posting pictures of strangers in order to judge their choices publicly. Some people choose to post things to incite jealousy in others. Some people choose to social media bully others, using hashtags to insult others or what have you. For those of you who do this, I ask of you to rethink your decisions on social media. Spread positivity, karma is real.

Back to the point, as I made my declarations of cleansing myself of social media in the new year for as long as I choose to do so, I was pleased to find my email and phone with messages of support from friends and acquaintances alike. They say it is not only the people liking your pictures/statuses and such that are paying attention, and they are right. It was nice to get messages of support from some friends who I would expect it from, and from others who are more unlikely. It made me feel like maybe social media does connect people a little more than I thought it did. Maybe once I cleanse myself for my own reasons, and feel comfortable in returning to the realm of social media, I will work on making a change. I will not let it dictate my life in any way. I will use it to spread positivity and use it as a way to connect with others on a more meaningful level.

But until then, tonight I will bid farewell to social media and all things associated. I will live in real time, real life. I will write blogs of my adventures, my travels. I will add pictures to share the beauty of the places I go and things I see. I will never stop taking pictures of the places and I go and the things I see, but I will be more cautious of why I am sharing it and who for.

So Happy New Year to those who may read this. Thank you for reading my blog and sharing in my journey with me. Here's to starting the first day of 2015 with the person who I love most, me :)

writing on writing

Why do you write? Why do I write? Why do writers write? Some writers right for entertainment purposes. Some write for informative purposes. Some write to present findings in studies. Some write about others. Some write about themselves. Some write fiction. Some write non-fiction. There are many reasons why writers write. And I by no means consider myself a writer, but I have my own reasons too.

When I started this blog, I wanted it to be about my life, my experiences, my travels. I started writing it as a means to write about what I go through in my adventures. It ended up taking a more personal turn than I had originally planned. And I will never truly apologize for that. It is my writing, and my blog, and I do not believe we should ever be sorry for what we write. We should never feel like censoring what we chose to write about. But I also would never want to hurt or defame anyone. That would never be my intentions.

I am going through a very emotional period in my life. For some reason, writing in this blog has been helping me through it. It has been therapeutic and cathartic to me. It is helping me make sense of the pain inside me that my head and heart just don't seem to be able to sort out for themselves. I still hurt on a daily basis. Whether I show it or not, through my every day appearance, writing, pictures or whatever else makes up my life, I am in constant emotional pain. I try to make sense of it by writing about it. And it may not be the socially acceptable way of dealing with it. It may not be how you, or others you know, deal with it. But it is how I have chosen to deal with it, because it helps me. I have never been one to do things the way I am told is better or right. I will always march to the beat of my own drum, because I truly do not care what you think of me as a result of the way I chose to do things.

When I write about my ex, and what I am going through, I don't do this for people to feel sorry for me. To sympathize with me. I don't do this for people to hate him. I don't hate him, so why should anyone else? He is a wonderful person, if he wasn't, I wouldn't be trying to maintain some form of friendship with him at this point. It wouldn't be so hard for me right now if he was a complete asshole and a horrible person. The reason I write about the experience I am going through with him, is merely a means to understanding why I am here. Why I moved to the other side of the world to get away from it all. Why it makes me anxious to go home. Why I can't seem to cut him out of my life, when every one I know tells me it would be easier or better that way. I would never want my writing to be taken as cheap shots at him. Or ways to make others dislike him. I write my experiences, my feelings and my thoughts. If you read it, you will notice a theme. A theme of love. Regardless of what has happened between us, I still love the guy. And maybe some think I should be over that by now, and maybe some might think that I am pathetic. And maybe I am. But this is just my story. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I have always been nothing but honest and open.

I am an emotional person. I always have been. As I sit here and write this, the tears pour down my face because I have just never been able to hold them back when they form in my eyes. This has been a very hard year for me. I have never felt so vulnerable, alone and insecure in my life. And I am trying to find a way back to the independent, strong person I was. I know she is in there somewhere. She is just hurting and trying to make sense of how she got so lost.

So to everyone out there writing, I say write on. Write what you feel. Write what you know. Write for whatever reasons you have to write. Whether it's for an audience, or yourself, or both. Others will judge you for everything you do in life, so write on if you have something you care to write about. And never apologize for your writing. My sister told me that. And she's right. Not everyone will like it. Not everyone will hate it. But if writing serves the purpose you intend, write on.

anxiety on flight 288

I have never had a problem flying. No anxiety. No discomfort. I've flown across the world, more than once. Had multiple layovers, long flights. Not once have I ever been scared or anxious. Maybe tired or bored, but I am a good flyer. This past weekend I flew home to surprise my mother and grandmother for my grandmother's 90th birthday. It was a short trip of two days, and a long flight for such a short one.

The weeks leading up to this flight home I was feeling anxious. I recently learned my ex, whom I can't stop loving no matter how hard I try, has his new Australian girlfriend moving to Canada to be with him in a few months. The thought of this makes me not want to return home at all. Without getting into the whole back story of the two of them, it makes me anxious. Every time I think about going home again, the thought of running into the two of them makes me unable to breathe. I like to think I'm a stronger person than that but apparently I am not as strong as I pretend to be. Regardless what I've been told, I will never truly believe I wasn't left for the foreign girl who seemed much more appealing than working on a great relationship that clearly only meant something to one of us. So here in lies my anxiety. I try to meditate. I try to exercise my demons out. But the anxiety takes over every time I think about going home. 

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse, window seats are the best

So I arrive at the airport, having had a horrible sleep the night before. It's 4:45am, I arrive just as they are starting to check people in, only to find out the computers aren't working and they have to check everyone in manually. With an hour to my flight, I knew I would be missing my connecting flight. As I approached the counter, they tell me that I no longer have the seat I chose and I will have to go get my luggage in Vancouver, and then get my next boarding pass and recheck my luggage. I could feel the anxiety getting worse. It was like there was an air pump in my lungs but instead of pumping in air, it was sucking it out. As I waited in the airport to board my flight, I saw my take off time, come and go. After over a hour, we finally boarded and took off. That flight, one of the shortest I've done. Was one of the hardest. As I sat in my seat, I felt the walls closing is around me. I made a beeline for the washroom and spent the next however many minutes (I lost track) having a full blown anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was crying. I was curled in a ball on a dirty airplane bathroom floor all alone. And I didn't know what to do. How to stop it. Until I finally just knew I had to get a grip and let it pass. I don't know how long I was in there for, but I came out of there with air in my lungs. But anxiety filled me, down to my core. 

I arrived in Vancouver as my connecting flight took off, but I was lucky enough to have my luggage come out first. I ran to reprint my boarding pass for my next flight, which had already been rescheduled to 30 mins after my original. By the time I got up to recheck my bags, that flight left too. So now I was told I was being out on standby and that I can go sit for two hours at one gate and wait, and if they don't call my name before they board, I do the same at the next gate, and the next, and so on. I walked to the gate. Sat down. And all of the sudden I felt it again. The same feeling I had on the plane. The walls were closing in. I got up and quickly walked to the bathroom and let the walls of the stall close in on me. I was shaking. I couldn't catch my breath. Because of this, I almost choked. This time I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. I sweat through my sweatshirt. I had never been through this before and I can't imagine going through it again. I spent most my layover in a bathroom stall trying to get a grip on reality. 

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse

After I made it back to the gate, I listened to the names called out that were on standby. Name after name, I got more anxious and sweaty. I bet I looked super suspicious and weird. I heard a few names called more than once until finally I was the last name called before boarding. I was finally heading home. 

This flight went smoother than the last. I didn't freak out. That is until the plane landed and everyone got up to get off. I felt claustrophobic for the first time. All I wanted to do was get off that plane. I started shaking a bit and just trying to take deep breaths to stop myself from not being able to breathe. And as I stepped off my plane, I turn on my phone to have the first text I receive be the person who made me anxious to come home in the first place. I want to say it was comforting but it wasn't. I wish I could've ignored it. But I couldn't. It's funny how things happen this way. 

So here I am, back to my 'home' after a week home. My flight back here, much easier. And I continue my efforts to meditate and exercise to work through the anxiety in hopes that my flight home for Christmas in less than two weeks is much less stressful. Here's hoping for a smoother day of flying.

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse

where words fail, music speaks

What music do you listen to when you are happy? Sad? Working out? Driving? Dancing? We all have our favourites. Different music for different emotions. Different music for different activities.

To me music has always been an important aspect of my life. In high school I was always found with headphones on my ears, or the very least around my neck. This is what inspired my headphones I have tattooed on my back. Since attending my first concert back in my early pre-teen years, I've lost track of the amount of concerts I have attended. Somewhere around 100 or so, I just stopped counting. Going out to see a band play live is my favourite thing to do. There's nothing I enjoy more than a good music festival with some good friends. When my favourite band takes the stage, the music takes over and I can't help but lose control of my body and my emotions. Depending on the band, I either dance, cry or go into an all out singalong. 

When I was preparing for my road trip across Canada, I was told by numerous people to make sure I don't listen to too many sad songs. But I am an emo kid at heart. And the sad songs are always my favourite kind. And I enjoy a good sad song when I am sad, it makes me feel like I am not alone in my sadness. 

Luckily for me I have great friends, with great music taste. Two friends of mine were nice enough to make me USB sticks full of great music for my drive. And one even specified the exact moments to listen to specific bands. And he was right. If you are ever driving through the mountains, I suggest throwing on some Junip, or Fear of Men. They are the perfect mountain music. It's amazing how Dan knew that. 

I started thinking about how music affects your mood. I have never found that listening to happy music when I'm sad helps. I have always been a sad music in sad times kind of person. But the funny thing was, I started my drive with sad music and as I drove across Canada my music turned more into anthems. I started each day with Death Can for Cutie's 'You are a Tourist', because for me the lyrics are one that hit close to home. 'If you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born then its time to go & define your destination, there's so many different places to call home'. As the days went on, I listened to one of my favourite bands, Stars. Their music had a way of making me feel like I was strong enough to make this journey across Canada and be on my own. Something about a lyric that says 'take the weakest thing in you, and then beat the bastards with it', that just makes you feel like your weakness can be turned into a strength. 

So maybe I didn't listen to the typical road trip music. Life is a highway, but I didn't need it sung to me. I needed my favourite bands, to comfort me and bring me strength. And I needed to find new music, provided by friends, to remember the bonds I share with people. Music brings people together, you get to know others through music. And you get to know yourself. The drive may have been a strengthening journey, but without a soundtrack to guide me, I'm not sure it would've had the same affect. 

Nietzsche was right, without music, life would be a mistake. Music is magical. It's mystical and healing powers are hard to explain. And it will always be a huge part of my life. It will always be the only constant that keeps me comforted and feeling like myself. So as I put my favourite record on today, I remember that drive and the way the music acted as my passenger. I was never truly alone, I had some great musicians joining me on my journey. 

i'll endure the night, for promise of the light

What is it about sunrises and sunsets that are so intriguing? I know I am not the only one who chases them. Everywhere I go, I love finding the best place to watch the sun come up or the sun go down. It's as if the view of the mountains, the city, the people, it's never good enough without the promise of colours filling the sky and the sun comes into view, or out of view. After experiencing so many alone, as well as with others, I can honestly say that it is magical no matter who you are with.

Sunset in El Nido, Palawan, Philippines 

On my own, watching the sun rise or set, it gives me a sense of peace. I almost meditate in the moment with focus on the sun and it's movement. The colours fill the sky and make me calm. It's healing in a way, to watch another day start or end, knowing that whatever negativity you endured before this, it will be washed away in thoughts of yesterday. As a new day begins, so does hope for a better day. I do love a good sunset, but those sunrises are what really get me. As the sky begins to change colour, it paints the darkness with pinks, purples, yellows and oranges. All the darkness you were feeling, it lightens it up. Brings new perspectives, with the new colours. Allows you to let go of the negativity, and bring forth the positivity. I remember waking up the past year, before the sun, having a hard time getting up and ready for my day in darkness, but as soon as I was driving and saw that sunrise in my rearview mirror, it was like a reawakening. I was ready for my day.

Rearview mirror sunrises on the 401

Sunrise in the Northern Rockies, Muncho Lake, BC

Sunrise on top of the Clay Cliffs behind my house in Whitehorse, YT

Sunrise and rainbow welcoming me to Banff

Sunrise in Northern Rockies, Muncho Lake, BC

Sunsets are just as enchanting. Especially when watching the sun set with the person you love. I remember as Ryan and I traveled, whether in South East Asia, or last year in Europe on the cruise, we chased those sunsets. It was amazing to be able to watch the sun set in so many different places in the world, and share that with someone else. Some of my favourite pictures from my travels are the sunsets I have captured. And regardless if my relationship has ended, those memories of chasing sunsets will never end. And I will always have the pictures to look upon and remember how good it felt to be surrounded by the colours in the sky and be with the person who I loved more than anything at that moment. There is something majestically romantic about watching the sun go down on another day spent with that person. Forget dinners, flowers, jewellery, just take me to the sunset for romance. It is all I need.

Sunset in Gili Trawangan, Lombok, Indonesia

Silhouettes in the sunset in Gili Trawangan, Lombok, Indonesia

Will always be my favourite sunset picture

I know it may seem ridiculous to some, posting pictures of someone I no longer am dating and myself kissing in front of a sunset. But it is a fantastic picture, and it was an amazing moment, and it is something I will never forget. I never understand hiding pictures away of moments like these, just because things didn't work out between you. Whenever I watch the sunset, I think of this moment and how lucky I was to experience such epic sunsets with him, in so many places in the world. And I am glad we captured moments on camera, especially since he is a much better photographer than I. And I can't wait to experience more on my own, when I continue to travel and get better in my photography skills. 

So today, go watch the sunset. Appreciate the beauty. No matter where I go, I am always chasing the sun.

solitary confinement at it's finest

I will never understand everyone's fear of being single. I feel like there are so many people who spend their lives being terrified of being alone. When they are in a bad relationship, they stay in it because they don't want to be single. When they get broken up with, they rebound right away because, to them, it is better than being alone. So they seem to think anyways. And when a break up happens, it's almost like a race between exes of who can move on to a new relationship first. And if you stay single for too long after, you are clearly not over your ex. You can't possibly just be happy being single. I will never understand it.

Don't get me wrong, there are times that I miss being in a relationship. Though it is not that I miss being in a relationship in general, I miss being in a relationship with him specifically. I do not miss having someone in my bed when I go to sleep at night or when I wake up in the morning, I miss him being the one in my bed. I do not miss having someone to do things with all the time, I can do things on my own.  Or I have friends if I don't want to do it alone. I find after years of giving advice to friends over breakups, they generally just miss being with someone so much, that they often get pulled back into a relationship that wasn't all that great to begin with. And maybe my relationship wasn't perfect. But he did make me happy for a long time. Lucky for me, I am perfectly fine on my own. In fact after almost four years of being in a relationship (well 2 officially, 2 unofficially) I almost forgot how awesome it is to be single. It's nice not to have to worry about someone else. It's nice to be selfish and do only what I want to do. It's refreshing to only have to worry about taking care of myself and not another person. There's a reason I do not want kids or pets, the responsibilities of it all. Relationships can be that way too sometimes. You taken on the responsibility of taking care of them, and they do the same. 

Most importantly, it's fantastic to make plans for your future and not have to take anyone into consideration but yourself.  As I sit here this morning planning my trip around the world, I don't have to worry about anything but making sure I have enough money and time to see all that I want to see. And when you are traveling, with no significant other on the other side of the world waiting for your return, you do not need to worry about how to get a hold of them, missing them and getting home sick over them. You still miss your family and friends, but believe me, after four months in Thailand without Ryan, I remember how much I missed him, and wanted to make sure I could text him when I wanted to. Find time to Skype/FaceTime/video chat, so you can see their face. It's hard to go for long periods of time away from the person you love. Though I will admit, it is nice when that person comes across the world to be with you. Or coming home to the person you love, when you have been away. But that doesn't mean not having that is awful. It is still nice to come home to your family and friends when you have been away. There are always others that you have been missing when you travel. When you are alone for long periods of time, company from others is quite nice, but that doesn't need to come from a relationship.

It's important to enjoy your own company. To really be happy in solitude. And I believe I have achieved that. And I don't just mean recently. I have always been a social person, but I have also been one to enjoy my private time. Some people can often mistaken it as being anti social or sad, but there are things I enjoy doing alone. I enjoy reading. Reading can be a very solitary activity. Though there are times while reading I miss being intertwined with my ex, both with a book open. But I wouldn't want that with just anyone. I'd rather read alone. It's my escape. I miss my step outside my house, the one I grew up in. Some of my favourite time alone was spent there reading and people watching. 

All in all, I have never been one to hate or be in fear of the single status. I'd rather be by myself than be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. Or with someone who lies to me. Or cheats. Being single is a nice freedom that is almost unexplainable. I guess being someone who doesn't want to get married or have kids, I don't have this clock ticking, telling me I need to rush back into something in order to do these things at the appropriate age. But I mean, it took me until I was 24 to find someone who I felt was worth being in a relationship with. I have dated before but have always enjoyed being single more than I ever enjoyed the company of anyone else. So I stayed single. There were potentials in the past who, with different timing, could have been something more. Australia got in the way with one. And I wouldn't have traded that experience for any relationship. Timing is everything. I was lucky Thailand didn't get in the way of another relationship; it actually kick started one into something real. So here I sit, with one great relationship in my past. No regrets. It was amazing while it lasted. But here's to being single. To being selfish. And wandering alone around this world, just doing me. Because when I am alone, I am in pretty great company, if I do say so myself.

around the world

Ever since I went to Australia, I have been dreaming of traveling to as many countries as I possibly can. As I thought about all the possibilities, I had a dream that perhaps I could teach in every continent one day. It was a wonderful dream. One that unfortunately seems unrealistic when compared to my other dream of having my own classroom in the Toronto area one day. You see, at the moment it's hard enough to get on the supply list for teaching, let alone to get a full time permanent position. This is why I have decided to spend the school year in the Yukon, gaining some experience in Canada.

This does not mean I have given up my dream completely. I still will follow my heart to every continent somehow. And after a lengthy discussion with one of my roommates last night I have figured out exactly what I need to do...

I will my try best to stick it out in Whitehorse until the end of the school year in June. At that point, if I have not made it on a supply list back at home in Toronto (or Durham), I plan to buy a Round the World plane ticket and spend as long as I can seeing the countries I really want to see, visiting the friends I have made all over the world, and just doing what I want to do. 

Recently I saved up a lot of money, it was supposed to be for a surprise trip to South America for my now ex-boyfriend for his birthday, a lot of it anyways. That clearly did not work out as planned, glad he broke up with me before I wasted money on that, to be honest. But after spending half of it on my car and the road trip here, I now want to keep saving and use it for what it is intended for - travel. 

This is my goal. I am writing this so I can focus on it and make it happen. As well as a way to reach out to anyone who has done this before for information, tips, etc. Also it's my way to prepare my friends across the world to get their spare rooms ready, I am coming to visit! My main goal is still to get on the supply list, teaching is my passion. I want that more than anything. But traveling has become another passion of mine. And right now, with the past year having kicked my ass a bit, I believe I deserve a trip around the world, on me ;)

trust your instincts

I recently had a situation that came up in my travels that was very similar to my own situation in life, that it actually got me thinking way too much. On my stop over in Calgary, I was lucky enough to hang out with a friend I had met almost six years ago on my flight to Australia. He was kind enough to take me around for a day and crash at his and his girlfriend's place for a night. The only problem with the whole scenario was that his girlfriend was uncomfortable with having a random girl she has never met, or heard of, come to visit. Rightfully so, though I felt that as soon as she met me she would realize it was no big deal. I was just stopping through for a day, no intentions of anything more than catching up with a friend.

But I can understand where she was coming from, having been in a similar situation not too long before this. My now ex-boyfriend put me in a similar but worse situation. Here I was, dating my boyfriend for 2-4 years, depending how you count it, and he was having a girl come to visit from Australia. He timed his moving out of my place so perfectly, that he had his own place downtown for her to come stay at. Not to mention she had been a constant worry of mine, as he knew, because they had a history. And because I am pretty good at telling when someone is lying to me. But no they were 'just friends'. And being a traveler as well, I know what it's like to meet people while traveling who you keep in touch with, one way or another, and I would like to think I would give a couch to sleep on to any of my traveling friends if they were in town.

But I am naive. Because I always forget that just because I am one way, doesn't mean everyone is the same. And so she came to visit; I met her. Hell, I even liked her. I enjoyed the conversation over the few days she was staying for the first visit, as she was coming back for a longer stay soon. After this meeting, I felt relieved, my lack of trust seemed silly all of the sudden. This girl seemed harmless. But alas, I was broken up with merely a few days after this visit, leaving me out of the picture for her next visit in a few weeks. It's funny how we can be worried about something for so long, and just when we are finally put at ease, the rug gets ripped out from underneath us.

We never want to believe our partners are capable of doing these things, but we can't help but worry. Which is why I understood where my friend's girlfriend was coming from. It's a hard situation to be put in; you want to be the cool, understanding girlfriend who can just go with the flow, but you worry. And you get jealous. And it's not your fault.

I wanted so much to tell my friend's girlfriend my own story, tell her how I was in the same situation, but my boyfriend actually left me to be with the girl who came to visit. I figured that maybe telling her that story she would sympathize with me, but then I thought some more about it. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea and not be able to trust the next traveling girl coming to visit. Because even in my situation, I would do it all the exact same. I would try to be accommodating. I would be the bigger person and deal with my issues. I would expect the same from any partner of mine. Because to be honest, as a traveler, that's what I would hope others would show me as well.

It's a shame the way things turned out. I can't say it hasn't fucked up my psyche a little bit. Who likes to be introduced to their replacement before being broken up with? It's a rather odd situation to be in. It messes with your head a bit, makes you wonder if you really know anything anymore. You want so much to believe that other people are worth trusting, but when it all comes down to it, you should always trust your own instincts first. The only person who you can ever truly trust is yourself.

But in the end, I would tell my friend's girlfriend not to let those feelings of uncertainty, or jealousy, or lack of trust, get in the way of being open to situations like this. I may be naive, I may be thought of as a fool. Put in a similar situation, I would do the same as I did before. I would find fun things for that person to do. I would buy an air mattress for them to sleep on. I would go out of my way to be accommodating. I would do this because that is who I am. I want to believe that no one would put you through that situation to hurt you. No one would come for a visit to take your boyfriend away from you. That kind of shit happens only in the movies, no?

from one mailbox to another

This week I received my first bit of mail at my new 'home'. I was delighted to say the least. There is something about receiving mail to your new address that makes it all seem a little bit more real. Like, 'hey I live here now, it says so on the front of this envelope'. As if all it takes is someone writing your name with your new address to make it so. It's a surreal feeling in a way, especially in this day and age, with email, Facebook, Instagram and the likes. There are so many ways to communicate with one another from across the country (or world), that snail mail, as it has so accurately been called, is becoming less and less common. Which is a shame, as there is something so meaningful and heartfelt about sending and receiving real, handheld mail.

I remember receiving mail when I was in Australia. A few things here or there from friends, nothing spectacular that is engraved into my memory. But the thing I do remember about my mail, is that I kept it with me, even as I moved from place to place (3 different living situations in total). I always had it with me so that I could remember that even if I don't get to talk to my friends and family every day, and even though I cannot see them, I am loved. It's cheesy but it's true. I live for the little bits of mail I receive. Hey even when I am not away, but that's just usually the weekly online shopping packages I get in the mail.

I think my favourite bit of mail while away, and this is going to sound ridiculous to most, was a sample of adult diapers I received at my second 'home' in Australia. Now I know what you are thinking, but let me explain. My sister and I have had this weird mail thing happening, ever since we both moved out of our parents house (though I have moved back a few times). Her best mail prank to me was sending me a free sample of adult diapers to my University house. I died. Especially since it was done in the summer when my neighbours were collecting our mail for us. Now imagine my surprise when she found a way to send me a sample of adult diapers to my house in Australia. I am pretty sure I laughed so hard I cried. It seems silly to say 'it was thoughtful'. But I mean, it really was. I was still able to joke around with my sister from the other side of the world. Not to mention, my roommate Nicole and I somehow managed to convince our friend Nick to put the diapers on over his skinny jeans and let us take pictures. I won't humiliate him and post them, but they were pretty funny pictures.

In Thailand I did not receive much mail, and that was a bit hard. I remember being jealous when others received mail and/or packages, and I, none. My sister had sent me a package with art made by my niece, but I never received it. It broke my heart. But I did quite enjoy being the one to send mail. I sent postcards made by the app Postcard on the Run, where you can make postcards from your own pictures. I remember being so excited to send Ryan a package of random Thai things, as he had been to Thailand before. I threw in t-shirts that I had found for him, cheap sunnies, and random things. It's so fun to put together care packages for people and send them, even if it is not always cheap.

So imagine my surprise when I have only been at my new 'home' for a week, and I get a nice orange envelope in the mail. It's funny because even before I saw the return address written on the back, I knew who it would be from. Ryan's mum has always been the sweetest lady, and always has the perfect cards and such, for every occasion. I opened it up to find a paper skeleton to hang up for Halloween, signed from his parents. Such a simple thing to send, yet something that made my whole week. I have already hung it on the back of my bedroom door, as a reminder that someone thought enough of me to send me something.

First piece of mail in my new 'home'. Thanks Jimmy & Gail.

I am and always will be a huge advocate to sending real mail. Although I am thankful that there are other options. Emails are fantastic. Facebook posts are lovely. Being able to share my adventures on social media is quite remarkable when you think about it. But a quick letter in the mail, a card, a hand drawn picture; these things are priceless. And I am forever grateful to those who choose to take the time to send out anything. I plan to do the same, and write letters with my typewriter and send them to those I love. In fact, I am going to go out and buy some fun stationary today (here's hoping there is a store here that sells such thing).

narcissistic tendencies

I can be rather vain at times, yes Carly Simon this song is about me. I will admit it, vanity can get the best of me sometimes. Ask my parents how many times I have told them I am beautiful… yes you read that right, not how many times they have told me, how many times I have told them. Okay so I may not be as vain as that makes me seem, I mostly do it for a laugh, but I am aware that I am not unfortunate looking. I have been blessed with good genes, and some features that could be considered attractive, but I am not here to brag about being good looking. I will leave it at that. I wanted to preface this post with this, so you know what kind of person you are dealing with here. I am not narcissistic, just confident in myself.

This is the 'check out my drastically new hair' selfie.

Now that all being said, let's get to the point, I want to talk about selfies. I know it is a much discussed topic of conversation. Everyone has their opinion on it, and everyone has taken a selfie here or there, regardless their opinions on it. Starting out as something people did for their MySpace profiles, the self-portrait photograph was not referred to as a selfie until around 2005. Selfies only really gained popularity, in people outside of their teenage years, in the 2010s, being one of the top 10 buzzwords of 2012. I mean, there is a reason we have the front-facing cameras on our phones now. Everyone wants to take selfies. And there is nothing wrong with that.

'check out my blue hair' selfie

'check out my new dress' selfie

'John Legend concert with Chelsea' selfie

Now as for people's opinions, they vary person to person. Some people I have talked to believe that people take (and post) selfies because they are full of themselves, vain and/or narcissistic. While others have the opposite opinion, that the reason people post these selfies all the time is that they are insecure, in need of reassurance from others that they are hot/beautiful/sexy/etc. Personally, I think that both may be true, but not every person is taking (and posting) selfies for the same reason. The reason I post a selfie will differ from day to day. My day to day selfies are usually to just post about the new dress I bought (it's an obsession of mine) or if I changed my hair. Yeah sure, I want you to like it, but whether you like my picture of me in my new dress or not, I still like myself and my new dress. I think many people are the same as me, they want to take a selfie to show off something new, or they take it with a friend as a memory of being somewhere together. Gaining popularity is the celebrity selfie, who needs an autograph when you have picture of you and the celebrity taken on your phone? The thing I will agree with, that doesn't need to be done, is the exact same selfie, of your face, every day, the same way. That's when the selfie gets a bad rap. We know what you look like, yes we see you have very nice cleavage again. Fantastic for you. Please show me something more. Intrigue me with your selfie.

I call this the provincial selfie series.

The reason I have been thinking about this recently, is that for my solo journey across Canada, I bought what they call a selfie stick. I was laughed at a little when I did - thanks Vanessa - but I was not worried about that. I did not buy it to take selfies of me just at home in my room; I bought it because I was about to go on an adventure by myself and I am one who enjoys having pictures of myself at the places I visit. Call me vain, call me what you will, but landscape pictures don't always cut it for me. And to be honest, many times random other people don't cut it either. They mean well, when they offer to take a picture of you, or you and whoever you are with, but often times the picture is zoomed in on you without the background, aka the whole point of getting the picture taken. It often frustrates me. Which is why, I bought the selfie stick. And boy am I ever glad I did. I have ridiculous selfies of me all over Canada, hey I even had a fantastic photographer take a picture of me, taking a picture of myself with the selfie stick, at Lake Louise. That is pretty epic, in my opinion anyways.

Taken by the fabulous @candidcameraman at Lake Louise, Alberta

Now let's be honest, as vain as I may say I can be, taking picture of myself is often fairly awkward. How many pictures does one really take of themselves before they settle on one? I am sure most wouldn't want to admit the actual number. No one wants to take a bad selfie and post it for the world to see, we can all at least admit to that. But me, I am super awkward in life. Put me in front of a camera, and I am even moreso, just ask my exboyfriend the photographer; hard to be someone's muse when I can't even smile for the camera, or pose nicely. So my go to for pictures, is the peace sign. I can't help it. Ever since Thailand, it has become my thing. Don't know how to pose? Peace sign. Feeling rather silly taking a selfie? Throw up that peace sign. It's my security blanket for the photo world. I know many probably roll their eyes when they see 'yet another peace sign selfie', but alas, I can't help but chuckle every time I do it. How many selfies can one take across the world giving the peace sign? I will find out.

Peace signs in Jasper, Alberta.

Lake Louise peace sign selfie… it's my thing.

Moraine Lake, Alberta

An oldie from El Nido, Philippines, just in case you thought I was kidding about the peace sign.

Some may agree with the things I have said here, some may not. Both opinions are okay. To each their own. I am not saying you have to like my selfies, or even look at them. But I will continue to post them. I like selfies. They are fun, and I feel as though I am confident enough in my own skin, that how many likes/comments I get on my selfies does not determine my own self worth. And the moment that is does, is when I need to sign off from the social media world and reevaluate myself and my life. So I say keep up your selfies my friends, I love seeing your beautiful faces, especially when I am far away from them and missing them. And you can see my face any time I feel like subjecting the social media world to 'yet another selfie'.

I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'

I know it may be a foreign concept to some, but work can actually make you happy. I know that being only one day back into teaching, that I am 'speaking too soon'. But I am really not. There was not one day teaching in Thailand that I questioned my love for my job. I loved it; every part of it. Even the mind numbingly boring parts. Even the parts that can be a bit frustrating. And my students, oh my students. I loved each and every one of them. The ones from my practice teaching in Australia, and especially my students in Thailand. Even the ones who can be a bit of a pain in the ass; hell sometimes those can be your favourites. For two years after returning from teaching in Thailand, I worked jobs that were just not as fulfilling to me. Sure, working with children at the Y before and after school care was still working with children in some way, but it wasn't the same. And as interesting as training men (some women, mostly men) how to drive forklifts and scissor-lifts can sound, the office work involved just didn't challenge me. And I am a person who needs a challenge to be interested in what I am doing.

one of my favourite pictures of my students and I in Australia, 2009

So here I am now, back to my passion, back to doing the only thing I have ever wanted to do. I should be over the moon, and in some ways I am. I had a huge smile on my face all day, while working one on one with students, being back in a classroom again. But at the same time it was hard for me, as independent and self assured as I may come off sometimes, it felt weird to have no one to share my happiness with. For the last almost four years whenever I was excited or happy about something, I have had one person in which I would text or call or tell, immediately. And it's a painful realization you come to when you go to text that person to tell them you are so excited because you have your first teaching day, and you know you shouldn't. You can't. As much as you want to, that person can't be your person anymore. No matter if you are friends or not. And really when I started to think about it, it wasn't so much having someone to share it with, it was who I was sharing with. I remember many times giving advice to friends after breakups saying 'you don't miss him, you just miss having someone'. And I thought maybe that's what this was, I just miss having someone to share it with. But I have people to share it with. I messaged my family and friends. I instagrammed it. I facebooked it. It wasn't the same. And that's okay. It's a process, so I am told. It doesn't just happen over night, that urge to message the guy you love, who you spent years sharing these things with.

It's funny how you can be fully aware of all these things, and it doesn't seem to matter. Your heart still hurts. You still need to go through the emotions. Deal with the pain. But at the same time, you can't let it overshadow the fact that you are in fact doing what you love to do. You are finally getting your life back on track to making yourself happy. And that is what I am doing here. That is why I came here. Because really when you think about how many hours a day we spend at our jobs, how many hours of our life, should we really be wasting it on jobs that are making us miserable, or unchallenging, jobs we aren't passionate about? I understand for some it's financial, bills to pay, no other options. I have been there, but that doesn't mean we should stop trying to get to that place. That place where we wake up every morning ready to start the day, because we love what do. We want to go to work, because it fulfils us.

My hope is that for the people I love that they are able to figure out what it is that makes them happy in their careers and they are able to find jobs in that field and be successful, in their own right. It may not happen right away, but if you want something bad enough, it will happen. I graduated from teacher's college 5 years ago next month, and I have left the country, and now the province. But I will never give up on the dream of having my own classroom someday, preferably a little closer to 'home'.

so I live here now...

Every time I have moved away from home (out of country, and now out of province), there is always that moment where it hits me… I live here now. Sure, it is always temporary, I haven't stayed put anywhere permanently, but it is still a startling realization that I now live far away from everything and everyone I know and love. It's a terrifying thought. Don't get me wrong, it is a rather exciting time as well, it's just not exactly easy to be on the other side of the country, or the world, from your loved ones.

Last night I spent the better part of my night looking through pictures of my nieces, and my family. I remembered how when I left for Thailand, Logan was a baby and I came home and she was a little person. They grow so fast. You leave home hoping that things will be the exact same when you return, but they never are. Things change, people change. Some things never will. My family has always been there for me, that will never change. Friends aren't as stable, but usually remain fairly unchanged. I know it can be hard on friendships when I up and leave whenever I chose to do so, but the friendships that are real, remain intact. And for that I am forever grateful.

So when does your new home feel like home? Is it when you have finally unpacked everything and put it in its proper place? Is it when you lived there for 'x' number of days, weeks, months? There is no exact timing for it, it usually just kind of happens without you even realizing it. And one day you will notice that it's felt like that for awhile, and you will feel a sense of peace knowing you are 'home'. I don't know when that will come this time, it certainly hasn't yet. I am almost done unpacking and I already miss my closet, and my bed, and my room.

Before I left, many people were commending me for my 'bravery' and 'courage', telling me I am so inspiring, that I can get up and just leave on my own and do what I need to do. I feel a bit like a phony, as if Holden Caulfield would call me out in a second if he ever met me. I am not that brave, or courageous. It has been the hardest thing imaginable to feel so lonely and decide to pick up and make myself even more alone, literally. But it was the only thing I could do. And I am doing it. I spent 8 days on my own, save for the moments I met new friends and visited a friend. It was the most incredible feeling in my life. When I left I was a phony, it was not strength that made me leave, but weakness. My inability to handle a life that I was no longer happy in. But the 8 days on my own have given me strength. I remembered how capable I am of being alone, and how much I actually enjoy my own company more than most. I could've driven on, I could've continued my journey around canada solo, and been quite content. But alas, I have made it to my destination, and now it is time to make this my 'home'… for now.

 Just arrived in Yukon.

My new home, the colours just fit me quite perfectly

no one likes a visit to the hospital

As I woke up this morning in pain, which had started the day I left for this journey, I knew it was time to give in and drag myself to the hospital. Before anyone gets worried, it wasn't a big deal, but walk-in clinics aren't open at 6am on a Sunday in Grande Prairie, Alberta. I won't go into details, no one wants those, I will just tell you that after a quick visit to emergency, with my Ontario Health Card in Alberta, I am on the road to recovery, as they say. It was a rather pleasant experience dealing with the differences between Alberta and Ontario health care; it made no difference. This minor detour in the morning, set my scheduled departure for my day of driving back and got my mind thinking back to other times I have had the pleasure of visiting hospitals during my travels.

I have been fortunate enough to not have any real horror stories from hospital visits on my travels. The worst I could even tell you would be that when my motor bike kick stand ripped out my toe nail and I showed up at the hospital, the place was empty and they stared at me for awhile before they did anything. I was advised to visit a hospital daily to re-bandage my toe, I chose to forgo to hospital visits and figure it out on my own. I was a bit too ambitious and sought help from the school nurse on occasion.

The worst thing about hospital visits is really just whatever it is that ails you, ends up inhibiting you from doing what you want to during your travels. The moment we left Brunei, back in 2012, I remember feeling like something was wrong in my belly. The rumblings in my stomach spoke of an illness sure to surface. By the time we got to the Philippines, I was  positive I was not well. Because of this mysterious illness, and my stubbornness on waiting until back in Thailand to get checked out, I did not feel comfortable getting on a boat, or doing many things. It wasn't until we got to Manila, Philippines, that it really hit me and I longed for a hospital bed. As soon as we arrived in Chiang Mai, I remember Ryan rushing me to the hospital. Once again, I will not to get into details about the exact cause of my illness, it was bad enough they hooked me up to an IV and wanted to keep me over night. As much as I trusted the health care system in Thailand, there was something about staying overnight in a Thai hospital that made me uneasy. So I accepted the IV for an hour, and we were on our way back to the hotel, with five different prescriptions that cost next to nothing. I am still baffled at the small cost of that hospital visit and medications, when other countries can charge so much.

But beyond even just the experiences had during those hospital visits, it's the feeling unwell in a hospital far away, that makes you long for home. You just want your mum to take care of you when you are not well. You want your own bed to curl into until you feel better. It's these moments that I feel home sick the most. I have only been on the road to my destination for a week, and I have had my first home sick moment. Every time I have been unwell, had an accident, or for whatever reason needed to see a doctor while I travel, without fail I tell my mother. I usually start the conversation with 'don't freak out but…' I remember such an email that was sent after I had my motor bike accident, and decided to forgo the hospital visit, check in with the school nurse, and teach from my desk chair all day.

Here's hoping it is the only hospital visit I need while on this new adventure in my life, but with my clumsiness, I am sure that is unlikely.

happiness is a journey, not a destination

It's been four days on my own. This isn't the longest I have traveled solo, but it has been an experience that has given me a lot of time to think. Alone in a car for so many hours a day, the mind will wander. I started to think about leaving home, and how hard it is every time to say goodbye to the people I love. How this is the third time I have left, and it hasn't gotten any easier. In fact, I think it has gotten harder.

The first time I left home for the other side of the world, I knew I would be home in 10 months from Australia. It was my first time traveling solo, and I remember feeling nervous, scared and excited. The excitement far outweighed the fear, as I knew I was going there for school and I had been planning this for years. I can remember being sad to leave my family and friends, but knew that this experience was about to change my life.

The second time I left home for Thailand, I was terrified. Not of what was there, but what I was leaving behind. I left a guy whom I wanted to be with, to move to Thailand to teach. I left the idea of us up in the air, with no sure way to know what would ever happen. It was scary, as I have never felt that way about another person before. I had never wanted to be with another person so badly, but I knew that I couldn't compromise my dreams for what if. And luckily for me, he wasn't the kind of guy to ever try to stop me. I spent four months missing him, but living my life and living in the most amazing country I have ever been to. I never thought a guy would ever travel across the world to be with me, but lo and behold, after four months without him, he flew to Thailand and we spent two months in Thailand and traveling.
For those who travel solo, and are of the solivagant type, you would understand how this changed everything. I was so used to doing things on my own, being on my own, it was then I learned what it meant to be a part of something more. It was rather lovely. It was then I realized that dreams can be rearranged to fit other people into them. I once dreamt of teaching in every continent. I had felt that would be a rather fantastic way to live life. Unfortunately I also have a dream to have my own classroom in Toronto. To do that, I need to focus on getting onto a school board there. Luckily for me, I found a person who wanted to travel just as much as I. I didn't need to compromise my dreams, but align them with reality. I could still see every continent, and have my own classroom. It would be rather brilliant.

This time leaving home, it was much harder. I struggled with the idea of leaving everything behind to get away from the end of a relationship, and a lack of happiness. It is hard to live day in and day out, not doing the thing that you love. For me, I needed to teach. I knew that after having my heart broken, the only thing I could do to make myself happy is run away, explore and teach. I have always thought of myself as a fairly strong person. Aside from the emotional side I am unable to hide, I have always been confident in who I am and who I want to be. I have never compromised myself for someone else. But this past year has been rather difficult for me. From broken friendships, to broken relationships, I have had to pick myself up off the ground and find a way to get back to being me, and being happy. So now I am on this journey, to find my happiness again. To do what I love. To focus on myself. I do not know what the future holds, but I have learned that the only person who can make you truly happy is yourself. Sometimes it just takes hitting an emotional rock bottom to get you to figure out how to get there. Happiness is a journey, not a destination, as they say.

On so my new journey begins...

don't talk to strangers

I think it's rather funny that even as adults we get told not to talk to strangers. My mother was very concerned when I told her my plans to travel across Canada in a car, on my own. She has every right to worry, but her requests for me to 'not talk to anyone' or put my chair against the door of my hotel room, were a bit much. I started to think about this whole 'not talk to strangers' request. How utterly lonely a trip that would be. Sure, I spent my first night of my travels at my Aunt Pat's and have talked on the phone to my parents a few times a day. But can you imagine a week without human interaction?

Perhaps it can be done, minus the few people you must talk to, such as hotel concierge or the gas station attendant. But why would you want to? This morning I met a lovely guy at breakfast in my hotel. The only seats open were at his table and I asked to sit. He struck up a conversation with me and made me realize how much I missed the interaction, and it had only been 24 hours without. I am a talker, always have been, always will be. And driving alone in a car all day, can be a lonely experience,  with no one to talk to. I haven't mastered the art of talking to myself, so I tend to just belt out the songs that come on, you know the ones, the ones that were made to be sung in your car as loud as you can. I have sang a lot of Robyn and Adele in those moments so far.

Back to the point, I really can't imagine not talking to someone while traveling. Almost six years ago, on my flight to Australia, I met a guy who was on his was to New Zealand. We chatted and hung out at the Chicago Airport after being on same flight from Toronto to Chicago and headed to the same flight from Chicago to LA. All I remember from that time was when he went to get himself food, he brought me fries. It was a lovely gesture from a new friend. Once we hit LA, we had to part ways, but have remained Facebook friends ever since. Without that chance meeting, without having talked to a stranger, I would never have met him. And in just over 24 hours, I will be meeting up with him in Calgary for him to show me around, a pit stop and day off of driving, along my travels.

These moments, these friends we make when we are alone, they make for good stories and sometimes even better future moments. It makes me sad that our first reaction should be to be cautious of people we don't know. Guilty until proven innocent would be the term I would use. It's a shame, we are keeping our stories of whatever journey we may be on, to ourselves, in fear they will use it to take advantage of us. Instead we should be sharing our story, using it to relate to each other; make new friends.

I have been fortunate enough to make friends in the many countries I have lived and/or visited. Right now I couldn't count the amount of countries/cities I have friends living in. Some of those friends I had no choice to meet, but chose to remain friends. Some of them I met through chance of being alone and striking up conversations. I will never stop talking to strangers - sorry mum! - because as they say 'a stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet'.

so·liv·a·gant : a solitary wanderer

This word, it has become my favourite word, as of late. It speaks to me in a way I can only try to make others understand, though most might not. Most people I have talked to have never even heard of the word, and to be honest, I am not sure when I was made aware that such a word existed. All I know is that ever since I heard the word, it stuck with me. Different dictionaries define it as ‘wandering alone’, or ‘solitary wanderer'; and I have even seen it defined as ‘solitary adventurer’. All definitions slightly different but all the same; same same but different, as they say in Thailand.

Now as I prepare for my next journey ahead of me, traveling across Canada, on my own, to move to Whitehorse, YT, I have begun to think of my past solitary travels, and how it has affected my life and who I am today. I decided it was time to start writing again. This blog will follow my travels along the Trans Canada Highway, as I make my way to my next ‘home’. I write ‘home’ in such a way, because ‘home’ is defined as “the place where one lives permanently” but as a solivagant, I have had many ‘homes’. I grew up in Pickering, Ontario, Canada, and when asked I would probably tell people this is my home, but it is not the only place I would describe as ‘home’. In 2009, I spent the better part of the year making Mooloolaba, Queensland, Australia, my ‘home’. Even though I had 3 different living arrangements all in one year – one in Sippy Downs, one in Mooloolaba and one in Buderim – Mooloolaba will always hold a special place in my heart, as my ‘home’. In 2012, I spent five months living in one of the most amazing cities in the world, Chiang Mai, Chiang Mai, Thailand. It may have been a short time, but something about that city felt like ‘home’ to me.

Now I start my journey in less than a week, to make a new place my ‘home’. I don’t have any exact time frame of how long I plan to stay, but a solivagant never really does. All I plan to do is get in my car Monday morning and begin my journey across the country. I will follow the open road. There will be music. There will be sunrises and sunsets. There will be moments I will never forget. There will be smiles. There will be laughter. There will be tears. There will be pain. And I may get to my destination the same person as I was when I left, or I may change along the way, only time will tell. All I really know is I am looking forward to finding out what this next chapter of my life has in store for me.

I started this blog to not only write of my journey to my new ‘home’ in the Yukon, but to look back at my past journeys to the other places I have called ‘home’. One day I may decide to write about the amazing moment that happened the other day, and it might spark a memory of a time I spent in Australia, and I will write the next day of that memory. I will follow no chronological order, this blog is where I choose to write about what I know, and what I know is the life of a solivagant, as that solivagant is me.