Dreams and decisions

One day last week I made the biggest mistake you can make in the early morning moment of opening your eyes while the day's freshness is still fresh. I checked instagram. First thing. What a horrid way to start the day. And I’m not even talking about all the gross political stuff. No. What I did that morning is click on a person that popped up in the "people you might know" section.

A girl I knew from Ghent, we met through mutual friends while studying. Now she’s successful, won prizes, made it big in the art world. I clicked through on one of her posts, as you do when you’re intentionally going down an insta rabbit hole that will lead nowhere else but depression. More successful people I once knew a few lifetimes ago. Big names, big brands, big engagement rings. Cute round cherub babies.

After forty minutes of spiralling down that rabbit hole, I pulled myself out of bed. For the next hours, I couldn’t stop comparing myself to those fabulous people. I felt so tiny and well… Shit. I was beating myself up for the decisions I made and should have made. Why didn’t I focus on a career, investing money, buying a place, having a few babies? Why did I have to pack and unpack my backpack a million times and move to the other side of the world for most of my twenties (and thirties)? If only my itchy feet lead me to a blossoming career and financial security… But no.

I was cleaning my apartment and going through some boxes when I found one filled with letters and postcards. Years and years of letter loving sent by the sweetest humans living in all different corners of the world, received and kept in a cardboard box. A treasure chest! My heart was melting with joy reading them, snippets of the past were reawakened and relived in my minds eye. Friends I made while travelling, pen pals from Sri Lanka, life long friendships knitted tightly through words. Living on other sides of the planet makes for many many letters written back and forth. I felt so happy, it all felt so real.

The letters were tangible proof of the decisions I have made, of living in faraway lands and travelling solo, meeting a bunch of beautiful souls. The travels made me who I am today and that cardboard box filled with written love reminded me of that. I have never focused on climbing any sort of career ladder. Instead I have lived day to day fulfilling the dreams I had as a little girl, whether that meant making friends worldwide, travelling around the globe by myself, or smelling every flower on my path.