A narrative about not giving so many f**** and following your dreams.
I grew up in two houses, in two towns, with two different friend groups, and two totally different parenting styles. Most people would think, "aw, how unfortunate" or "divorce is hard on children," but this is all I knew, so no tears were shed. Interestingly, I loved this situation because I was never in the same place for two long. Actually, I had many different homes because even in the same town my family would move a lot.
When I was little I would ask my mom when we were going to move again with such excitement. She probably looked at me confused, like I was crazy because now I realize (as an adult with muscles) how much a hassle moving is when you have the ability to pack and moved boxes. It's not all bubble wrap. Remember finding treasures you packed away and forgot about only to take them all out and play with them for hours instead of packing the rest of your things up?
Back to this moving idea. I LOVE to move. I have never liked the idea of staying in one place for too long. It is the natural nomad inside me. I am also a fast walker, so maybe that has something to do with things as well. Thankfully we moved more times that I can count or recall, but every time it was special.
Even today I have the urge to move, learn, and grow. Even if it is not permanently moving to a new place, traveling fills my heart in the same way.
After countless six-hour car rides, many podcasts, ballad belting, and even the book on tape "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck" by Mark Manson (a necessity to read or listen) I am making moves. I want to say this book actually inspired me as well, or it at least put me in the positive mindset to make moves and not give a f*ck.
I booked a month long trip to Europe.
Now it is time to get rolling. Let the planning begin. Summer is coming.
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