Almost 24, almost quarter-century. What a milestone – what have I achieved?

The older I am, the more I realise that the brave are not the ones who travel. The brave ones are the ones who knuckle down, count their coins, give up the wants, and support their families both financially and emotionally. Perhaps it’s just my sub-conscious telling myself – Denise, you’re not being brave doing your solo travel thing. That’s running away. 

To be sure, I find facets of myself I never would if I didn’t go on foolhardy trips back just a few years ago. I have been lost and hungry, faced an on-coming bus in the middle of a highway, walked down streets to find a room for the night, bunked in with strangers, followed strangers, been lonely, been happy. So many memories and experiences. Also, I’m not sure if I’d ever have the guts to do a bungee again. 

But its in the day-to-day, living on a salary, dreaming of renovating the house, a tough deliberation between a personal laptop or not, making time to visit my gran and keeping up with my friends, that I find deeper recesses of myself that I’d otherwise never have. 

Holistically – these are all of me. Paradoxically, I’m also not sure who I am, anymore. Except, I’m needing to be brave and stay the course.


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