I had forgotten what it felt like to have a home, to have my own bed.

After more than 5 years of wandering across the globe and visiting over 20 countries, the longest I ever stayed in one place was just 3 months.

The next destination always seemed more urgent than the present moment. If I lingered somewhere too long, I’d convince myself I was afraid—afraid of failing in my mission to see the world.

I wandered without any long-term plans, with nowhere and everywhere to go. Back then, I believed that was true freedom.

I like to think traveling saved me. It pulled me out of depression, anorexia, bulimia, and heavy drinking. It stripped away my pretenses and taught me, in the most unfiltered way, just how small I was and how many times I could reinvent myself. That power was intoxicating.

Being nomadic became who I was, my identity. I dreaded the thought of going back home because it felt like I’d lose the best part of myself. I feared settling down, knowing there was always another thrilling adventure out there, waiting to be experienced. I felt like I had no choice but to keep moving.

Every time I landed somewhere new and exciting, I would get a rush. But that happiness, the kind I was searching for, wasn’t there either.

I was chasing a happiness that couldn’t be found in a place. It was something I should have been carrying with me all along, but I didn’t understand that then.

Now, it’s been 20 months since I settled down, since I moved here. This time, I was more prepared. I had been in unfamiliar places before, and I knew better than to expect the place to make me happy. So, I took responsibility for my own joy.

I started surfing daily. I picked up new hobbies. I dusted off my camera and started shooting again, just for the fun of it. I felt more creative, more confident, and more grounded. In all of that, I found happiness—because this time, I knew where to look.

It feels good not to live out of a backpack, to sleep in the same bed every night. It feels good knowing that I’ve been on the search, and I’ve finally found what I was looking for.

After all these years, I realize now that happiness isn’t tied to a place—it’s tied to perspective.

xoxo,
Caroline