The last few months have been a whirlwind. It’s interesting… “A journey around the world has led me to this exact moment” as Audra continues to point out. Never in a million years would I have guessed I would be here now, yet I’m feeling more like me than ever.
I’ve spent a lot of time talking about my journey but the transition has been the part that I didn’t see coming. Certainly not the mental challenge of adapting to a place that was once so familiar, my home. It’s weird. In the grand scheme of things, I wasn’t gone that long. Yet in the same breath I say that, everything has changed. And I mean everything.
The “transition anxiety” really began about a week before leaving Rwanda. I wasn’t excited to go home. I was anxious about continuing the life I built over the last few months and wasn’t sure how, or if it was possible; to continue this life, this me, back in Tampa. I was excited to be home for Bon’s wedding, and I’m grateful I had something to look forward to, because everything else was just neutral, or a little less than I felt like it should be.
I got to the airport in Rwanda and realized that my journey was over. It’s a harsh reality to tell you the truth. I felt sad, super nostalgic and cried as the plane left the ground. Rwanda, my place of refuge, was slowly disappearing. I wasn’t ready to let go… and yet I didn’t really have a choice.

I spent most of my travel days the same and this was no exception. Texting with Tara, Audra and Kristi, listening to music, reading, writing or sleeping. I flew from Rwanda to Addis Ababa (Ethiopia) to Dublin (Ireland) to DC to Tampa. Luckily I had a 10 hour layover in DC and was picked up by my #unconditionallove friend, Tara. Seeing her made everything feel okay. I could tell her I was sad without guilt. We had a great day (per usual) and I was able to see Stef and Mike which was icing on the cake. It was a soft landing back to reality.

I got home on a Thursday night and the first thing I did was take a shower; it had been 30+ hours of travel and that seemed like a pretty good thing to do before bed! I thought I would be soaking in the realities, feeling more grateful than ever for the things we have here. It was the opposite. I felt rushed, wasteful. I got into bed that night and couldn’t get comfortable because the bed was so soft. I put my headphones in my ears and played my #chooseAND playlist, the same music I’ve listened to on repeat for months, took a Tylenol PM and called it a night.

I had lunch with a friend the next day. She was in the Peace Corps and is one of the few people I know that has been in this position – granted she was abroad for more than 2 years. We’ve talked a lot about her experience and transitioning home but that was all before I was actually in the transition phase. I am grateful for our conversation that day because she told me to not feel bad if I find that I’m not as happy as I “should be” or expect to be. “Give yourself time and permission to feel however you feel.” I have continued to replay that sentence in my head because I have felt such a mix of emotion.
I survived my first few days home because I clung to routine. For those that know me, routine wouldn’t be a word that I’d use to describe myself. Yet it was the only thing that kept me afloat. I found myself waking up and making myself tea. Eating breakfast. Going outside. Reading. Writing. Taking a bath. All things that I fell in love with in Rwanda. My safe space.
My first week can only be described as Overwhelmed. A few things specifically from a transition perspective stand out.

•  Getting on my flight from DC to Tampa was my first battle with reality.  It was the first time I heard complaining in months and the frequent use of cuss words. It was all quite hard to hear in all honesty.
• I took a bath. I have always loved baths and in Rwanda, I had a special appreciation for bathing out of a basin. It became a ritual, an experience that really just went along with this grander experience I was having. Well, I took my first bath at home. I sunk into the water, turned on my music. I splashed water on my arm and immediately burst into tears. The kind of crying that takes your breath away. I couldn’t control the emotion. When I finally stopped I went mentally numb.
• I got in my car. Prior to leaving, I essentially lived out of my car. My life was constant. I went from one thing to the next. Changing in my car was a way of life. I got in my car that first time and looked around like whose car is this? Disgusting. What a mess. Then I started the car… the battery was dead. This wasn’t my fault – it happens when your car doesn’t run for months – although I could have taught my mom this lesson! Par for the course – didn’t even occur to me to plan ahead in that way. Then I got a new battery and guess what, I had no gas. This story is me in a nutshell. The old ways vs the new and managing the change.
• Prior to leaving I gave up my apartment. I donated my furniture to a family in Sulphur Springs and downsized quite a bit. I moved my stuff into my old room at my mom’s house. I still have a king size bed, armour, clothes, shoes, and a few boxes filled with kitchen stuff, toiletries, etc. I walked into my room questioning why I have so much stuff. I was living quite comfortably with my backpack worth of stuff; no more than 30 items in total. It makes you realize what you really NEED and how much of life is “stuff” oriented.
• I went to Joanne’s for a Peacock Social. There was about 13 of my bests in one room. Now, this is a common thing I engaged in… a group of women who speak loudly and all talk over one another. I love them all, and I expect the experience. A million questions too! Long story short, I was overwhelmed by it all. I left and went to bed immediately. It wore me out. I was exhausted.  I was sad that I was sad.
• I went grocery shopping at Walmart. I got use to eating fresh produce and at a very low-cost in Rwanda. I thought Walmart might be a better place to start vs Publix. I was in Walmart for 1.5 hours. I walked down every aisle and was inundated by the amount of stuff. I just couldn’t believe the volume and size of this store.

I constantly found myself staring off into space. My mind was racing. I couldn’t manage it all. I floated between my routine and being numb or anxious. I continued to get frustrated with people’s comments, specifically from a gratitude, you have no idea how you sound, kind of way. My first encounter of this was on the plane. People complaining because our flight was delayed, complaining about their seat… etc. All NORMAL stuff for us here in the US. I hate it. It took everything in me to not say something. I wanted to be like, listen. I get it. But have you considered how lucky you are to even be on a plane? Perhaps we shift your way of thinking just a smidge and give some thought to your life and how idiotic you sound complaining about the isle in which you’re sitting. Perhaps you consider the person that will never leave a 25 mile radius of their home? Perhaps you consider the amount of people who live every day in hopes of someone in their family making it to America one day. Or how about the complaining on social media. Gossiping about your friends. It’s all so simple… all so unnecessary. Petty.

 
To be in your old way of life, feeling entirely different, can be exhausting. Mentally overwhelming. Sad. It’s like I’m more me then ever, walking into a strangers world. Trying to figure out how to manage this transition. Defining yourself in a new way within your old world. Transitioning not only yourself but finding your place with friends, boy friend, career, community, and beyond.

Until next time,

Chasing a Life of Bliss…