I am allergic to round trip tickets, itinerary, and any plans for more than a week out. Having a return date for a big trip gives me more anxiety than anything in the world, even more so than math.
With tears streaming down my face, my heart racing, goosebumps all over my body, and my human form seemingly formless—I picked up my pendulum, closed my eyes, steadied my shaking hands and allowed my heart to move the swinging fluorite crystal hanging above my palm.
I knew from the moment I set foot in Barcelona, Spain, on a study abroad trip that I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, ever be the same. I instantly felt at home and vowed to make my way back to live in Spain any way I could. Over the next decade, I worked to travel. From long weekends in San Francisco and Mexico to traveling abroad for play or work, I was (and am) insatiable.