Am I really back home?

Previously I've described myself as a homeless traveler, so how can a homeless be back home? It sounds ironic, and certainly has been very challenging. I'm back in my home country, my home town. I've surrounded myself among friends and family I've missed. But while I was out there traveling and exploring the world, they were continuing living. People got engaged, had babies, got a promotion at work, moved on.

For me it was like hitting a pause button, and now that I'm back the need of fast forwarding to keep up to date has been very overwhelming.

What's next? What is your plan? How long will you stay in Mexico for? These and many other questions have been asked by friends, family and strangers. I have no real answer. I'm of the idea that the best plan is to have no plan. And don't get me wrong, I have a general idea of what I want to do with my life, but I decided not to share it with everyone, and let life surprise me.

When I was living at The Simon Community, I got to see how difficult it was for some of the residents to go from having no place to live to be in a place that had walls. We described it as "Cabin fever". Feeling trapped in a confined space. Now I'm experiencing the same, maybe a bit different because I'm aware. I feel depressed and decide not to leave my room, I could sleep all day. If I leave, I want to stay out as much as possible and being around friends.

I've had some time to think about this; to reflect and let my feelings out.

Somehow I feel that I'm back in a world where money is important. Yes, you read me write, I mean that when I was traveling, money wasn't really that big of a deal. Now I'm back into my parents' house, where my room is the studio, the visitors' room. And I want to go out, explore the city, have fun with friends. But everyone is working, if I want to go out at night, I gotta get a cab to come back; if I order a glass of water with my lunch I get a weird look for not wanting to spend money on drinks.

When I was traveling, I could work on pretty much anything in exchange for food and shelter. I was a waitress, dish washer, farmer, house keeping... anything. And I enjoyed every bit of it, I felt good with myself because I was accomplishing something I wanted. I was traveling. Apparently now that I'm back home that is not good enough, people will look at me as an alien whenever I tell them I want to do any of the jobs previously mentioned. This time instead of food and accommodation (my parents are temporary providing it) I get money. And I will feel proud of myself because I'm having a good time, doing something I like and pursuing my dreams.

I'm not the kind of person who worries about what others think; but it's difficult not to care, or not to listen. It's too much pressure.

Being back home as a homeless traveler it's difficult. I guess the important thing is to remind yourself of your own long-term plan. What do you want out of life? I want to live, to love and to enjoy each moment. Being a homeless traveler doesn't mean you don't have a home, it means you have many of them. That's why it's normal to be homesick once you settle. Now I'm in the first place I called home, I might settle for a while, but home is calling me; I'll go back to the road whenever it's time to do so.