The Blessing and Curse of a Nomad

It is so odd when you move to an entirely new world and slowly begin to understand that nobody there quite knows who you used to be. I feel like I have started on an entirely clean slate again, but at the same time I yearn to share my past with everyone I meet. I feel that it is something to be proud of, something I want to make known. My memories, the moments I doubted myself, and the moments someone caught me and lifted me to greater heights –  All of the little moments in time culminated to create the person I am now.

The streets I wandered, the little hidden cafes I found, and the rooftops I laid upon with my dearest friends, singing and gazing upon the stars… The late nights sitting around a bonfire roasting marshmallows, the glass elevator rides, and rock concerts at the Masquerade. Let’s not forget the mountains, the little cabins and their adjacent German town, and the trivia nights and blueberry beer. It is all very dear to me, but simultaneously it is nearly impossible to even begin to explain just how significant it is. How would one go about summarizing so many years of one’s life that occurred in an entirely different world?

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I know that I am not the only one forever wandering between worlds with no one quite understanding except for ourselves. It could feel lonely to some, but it is also beautiful… Our past shaped us, but as we keep it and the precious people on the forefront of our minds -like a fire that will never go out – we should go on to create the future we want; we can become anyone we want in a place where no one knows us – something that should be said of our lives even if we stay in the same place.

The important thing is that we never forget – and remind everyone that we have not forgotten. One day we can go back and gaze upon the places where we left bits of our heart, with eyes that are both old and new. Until then – keep on making memories – memories that you will value just as much as those now hazy, but vibrant dreams of yours.

Bethany x

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