Category: Wonderings

5 Reasons Being Homeschooled Makes Me Better At Traveling

Published on by Emilee1 Comment

“What the hell does homeschooling have to do with travel!?”

I’m glad you asked. I know you probably have your doubts…but you’d be surprised how often I pull out my homeschooling skills in order to successfully navigate the world. I was homeschooled from 3rd grade to high school graduation, and it really shaped who I am, as a person. No, I don’t play Dungeons and Dragons, but there are some stereotypes that are true…

NOT THOSE. Sheesh, guys, when was the last time you met an actual homeschooler!? Trick question, because when would you meet someone who never leaves home? Hahahaha — just me? Okay, moving on. Here are five reasons I think that being homeschooled makes me better at traveling.

1. Alone Time:

Okay, so when I was homeschooled I went to a resource center a few times a week. And it was great. Basically it was structured like a regular school, except most of us had parents hanging out in the halls or library, while we went to classes. All the teachers were certified through the state (except for special workshops) and it’s very important for my homeschool cred to note that our parents weren’t the teachers. This was not a co-op. Got it? Good. Moving on.Having a place to spend 2-3 days a week was great, but it still meant that there were entire days where I saw only my siblings/mom. This meant I had to be okay with rollin’ solo. I’m an introvert, so it’s a little bit easier for me, but the reality of travel (especially solo travel, which I do) is that you spend a lot of time alone. Whether it’s transportation from one place to another, or just walking around a city, there are a lot of times when you’re going to feel like one very out of place person in a sea of faces. Luckily, a homeschooler knows how to capitalize on that time. And an introvert knows it’s great for books, journaling, blogging or just thinking about life.

2. Making Random Friends:

On the flip-side, you probably should talk to people when you’re traveling alone. Because otherwise a) Why are you even there?

b) You’ll probably start to go slightly mad.That being said, you know the Homeschool mantra, “Say hi now, because you might not see another soul for days!” It’s on our flag. Moving on.

In all seriousness, it’s really important to connect with people. Hang out with people in hostels, talk to people on tours and really get to know the strangers around you. This is easy for me to do, because I’ve had to choose to make friends pretty much my whole life. There was no luxury of “assigned seating” or “class periods together.” It was talk to this person right now, or forever hold your peace.

3. Self Motivation:

Not to brag, but I basically put myself through the entire educational system from 3rd grade on. Yeah, I had my mom there to give me piles of books, but I think anyone can pretty much vouch that I made myself actually get things d-o-n-e. I’ve always been pretty self-motivated, which is really good, because I work remotely and it’s really important for me to make sure deadlines and projects get done on time. Yes, I have a boss. But luckily I know how to kick myself into action.That being said, I constantly make deadlines for myself when I’m planning to travel, traveling or working on the road. I make it happen because when you’re on the road, as a solo traveler, you either get yourself there, or you don’t get there. There’s nobody to tell you where to go, or wake you up if you sleep through your alarm clock. It’s all about you. Just the way I like it.


4. A Love of Learning:

If I won the lottery, I would become a professional student at Oxford. I love learning more than anything in the world. Which is why I have tutors “for fun,” subscribe to PBS instead of Netflix and have accounts with every online learning site. I love history and science and geography and art and writing and languages. That’s just me (and Hermione, who I share a birthday with – fun fact).This comes in handy when I’m traveling because it makes me infinitely curious about the places I go. It also makes the places hold a lot of value for me, and when other people see that, I think it’s a lot easier to make friends with the locals (unless you’re in Paris, where they hate everyone – jk…sort of). This also has helped me to learn the “secrets” about places, because when you make friends with locals you get taken places tourists never get told about.

5. Trying New Things: 

There is a disclaimer on this one, because I’m not a huge fan of trying new food. That has more to do with me being allergic to everything on the planet, though, and less to do with a lack of interest or willingness to try.What I do love to do is weird things that nobody else will do. I travel with a pretty open “yes” policy for trying new things (safety first, of course) and that’s led me to have some pretty interesting stories. I’d share them now, but where would the fun be in that? You’ll have to keep reading along on the blog to find out.

BONUS

Not taking ‘no’ for an answer:
I wasn’t ever shut down by teachers growing up. There weren’t “dumb questions,” because the only person I could ask was myself, or my mom (who is, in fact, a certified teacher).  I love proving people wrong, and I love finding ways to do things that people say can’t be done. I think a lot of this has to do with the way I was raised… and it probably also has something to do with the hotheaded Scottish blood in my veins.

One Glass Of Unicorn Blood: Shaken, Not Stirred

Published on by Emilee1 Comment

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If I was Voldemort, art would be my unicorn blood.

Okay, okay. Kinda gross and sort of dramatic. But it’s true!

Before you walk away gagging, let me explain: 

Art is my life blood and keeps me sustained.

And while it doesn’t require a life long curse, it does require a lot of sacrifice. How often is that the case, though? The things we love, the things we are passionate, what makes everything ‘just feel right’ comes at a price.

Adulting.

Here I am, sitting the morning after a show I painted at, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I slept a full 7 hours, but this is one of those moments when I’m blatantly aware that I am no longer the college freshman who did homework until midnight, then sprung out of bed at 6am for work the next morning.

Lately, I’ve been VERY aware of my own limitations.

And let me tell you, it’s a feeling that’s pretty upsetting and kind of annoying. I hate being limited. I hate not being able to do every. single. thing. that pops into my head. I want to travel everywhere, live on Twitter, blog everyday, paint everything, work 80 hours a week and still have time to maintain healthy relationships and exercise 7 times a week.

Wouldn’t that be nice? If only I wasn’t human.

The reality is – I have limits. And I don’t think enough of us admit that. I’m not talking about being lazy, so don’t think leaning back in a pile of potato chips on the couch, while streaming soap operas, is what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about good ole-fashioned lack of ability to have more hours than life provides.

And while I know you gentlemen feel this way, as well – I’m going to call out the pressure that we, as women, feel to be EVERYTHING.

A lot of the time it feels like I need to be the perfect career woman, the perfect blogger, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect daughter the perfect roommate, the perfect friend, the perfect writer, the perfect editor. Oh, and also volunteer every weekend, be devastatingly fit, and have all my student loans paid off like 10 years ago.

(NOTE: I wasn’t even in college 10 years ago)

The point is, this is INSANE.

And I’m calling it.

There is no way to live up to this constant standard of perfection, and while I do very strongly agree that healthy life = happy life. Let’s reevaluate what that means.

Not to compare the U.S. to France, again, buuuuuuuuut…

In France women are not perfect mothers. They don’t have to be, and honestly I don’t think they want to be. Motherhood is just one piece (like being a vegetarian or a yogi) that makes up who they are.

In France there are days and days of vacation time when people literally sit around and “do nothing.” Or, to be specific, they lay around in gardens and on lawns and in front of amazing buildings that look like movie backgrounds.

In France you work so that you have more time to enjoy your life. Not so that you can pay back student loan gods who hold you in shackles for 40 years.

Obviously there are problems with any society, and France is not immune. But the overarching culture is sometimes storybook-esque.

Sometimes that drove me crazy, when I was living there. But now, I think I’m starting to get it.

I’m starting to understand that there’s no way to win in this American system.

Last weekend I got to hear some of the most successful people I can think of talk about their success, and guess what? They still don’t feel like they’ve “made it.”

Why? Because we’re holding ourselves to an impossible standard.

Okay, now the happy part:

We don’t have to live this way. We don’t have to do everything and be everything. In fact, I don’t believe we were ever meant to. courtney-e-martin-quoteLet’s refocus for a minute.

One of my favorite quotes is by author Courtney E. Martin, who wrote a fantastic book called Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters: The Frightening New Normalcy of Hating Your Body.

“We are a generation of young women who were told we could do anything and instead heard that we had to be everything.”

Every time I read this quote, it’s like a slap in the face and a breath of fresh air.

This has been resonating with me a lot, lately, as I try to tackle 60 hour work weeks while maintaining a semi-normal life outside of my 3/4 jobs. It’s not easy. But I do my best, and I’ve decided that that is enough. I might not be producing my best ever art, or updating my social media/Etsy more than once a month but that’s okay. I’m still pressing forward.

Can I get an amen?

Okay, but really. I AM a huge advocate of hard work. But I also think it’s really important that we realize — we are not robots. We’re divinely created temples. And temples are places to be valued and loved.

So, today, wherever you are in life, that you’re reading this, just know that it’s okay not to have “it all together.”

I give you permission to be tired. To be a little messy. To be a little human. And to love your life, and yourself a little more.

Love extravagantly. Be kind to one another. And…

Why I Cut ‘Jealous’ Out Of My Travel Vocabulary

Published on by Emilee12 Comments

Last week I bought a plane ticket to Europe. In January I’m going to be taking a trip through 5 countries and honestly I’m so excited to be going to my second “home,” again.

With every trip/travel experience I’ve taken, I come across people who say that they’re “jealous.” And while I know it’s not generally meant negatively, I wanted to have a quick housekeeping talk about it.jealousy-quoteObviously I’m not immune to the green monster that is jealousy, but I’ve noticed this conversation happening a lot, lately. I had to stop and think: Do we know what we’re saying?

Note for the love of linguistics: When we say, “I’m jealous!” what we’re actually saying is that we’re afraid of losing something.

“Jealousy is an anticipatory emotion. It seeks to prevent loss,” said Ralph Hupka, Professor of Psychology, Emeritus at California State University at Long Beach.

Despite the common misuse of the word (what’s new? #English) what we generally mean is that we’re envious of what the other person has. For this piece we’ll move forwards with the common knowledge that we, as a society, use the words synonymously, and that ‘jealous’ is interchangeable with the meaning of envy.

And now, back to your regular program/rant…

Why am I even talking about this? Well, in the travel community I think it can be easy to look over at someone else’s accomplishments (I’m lookin’ at you Mr. 153 countries in 2 years) and feel a certain tinge of green.

When you see that someone bought a plane ticket to a place you’ve always wanted to go, your initial reaction, as you’re sitting in your cubicle typing, probably isn’t going to be to high-five them. But guess what? You should. Why? Because that’s how we build community. You have to CELEBRATE.

As a woman, I think a lot of us grew up being pitted against each other. For some reason we’re supposed to be in competition with every other woman on the planet, and we’re supposed to sit in a corner moping, if we don’t sing like Taylor Swift, and have moves like Beyoncé.

When have we EVER been encouraged to throw a party when one of us kicks ass and conquers?!

Three years ago, after a rather tragic and heart breaking experience (#storyforanothertime) I decided to stop using the word “jealous” in my conversations with people (and to be honest, even in my mental conversations).

Why was it that when those people accomplished their dreams, I felt like I needed to protect myself from losing my own. Sound ridiculous? Sound familiar?

Hint: That’s not how it works.

I started my little vocab experiment when I realized how terrible I felt after I said I was jealous of someone. Even if it was meant to be light-hearted, it didn’t feel right. And generally speaking (unless the person was a smug-ass) I noticed that nobody was reacting positively to me expressing my jealousy.

At first it was really hard, I’m not going to lie. And to be more honest, it still is. Sometimes the words bubble up to my lips before I even get a chance to think about them and I have to push them back down. It’s a bit like trying to get a rolled sleeping bag back in its bag.

The Results: What I noticed when I stopped using “jealous” to describe my feelings is that my mindset changed. I started to replace stagnant thoughts with questions like, “How can I do that?”
proverbs-1430A few years ago I wanted to do a lot of things that I didn’t have the courage to do. Mainly because I spent hours on Pintrest/travel websites drooling over what other people were posting.

That’s no way to live.

When you start to ask yourself “how” you can make things happen, you start to open doors, and you start pushing yourself forward. Believe me, the universe knows when you’ve opened yourself up to new experiences. You might even land in another country, attempting to speak somewhat fluent French.

I’m just saying. It’s happened before.

The part that breaks my heart is that society is (generally) not on our side. Spend 5 minutes looking at ads on your TV and you’ll quickly see that we, as Americans, are constantly in competition with each other. MAKE the grass on your side greener so the Jones’ (and everyone else!) has to drool in envy. Go on a Caribbean cruise so your coworkers are envious (not to spend time with your family, don’t be ridiculous). The list goes on and on.

Fight it.

Get off your couch and go DO something. Buy a plane ticket, or start saving to buy one. And stop saying you can’t. Before I really even knew how to budget (or anything about travel), I would put away the tiniest amount of money every month, daring not to hope. When I finally had the guts to buy a plane ticket I had the backup that I needed. Literally EVERY SINGLE person told me not to, but I did anyway. Why? Because that was MY dream.

And now it’s time for yours to start.

Jealousy is a stagnant emotion. It doesn’t move you forward. It’s like one of those stupid gumdrop traps in Candyland that makes you lose a turn.

Stop jealously looking at what others are doing, and start making things happen in your own life. You’re so much more powerful than you know.

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You Can Call Me Pippi Longstocking

Published on by Emilee1 Comment

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I’ve always been in love with gingers.

I idolized them as a child. Friends, singers, actors, book characters – it didn’t matter. There are so many, it borders on obsession (I have a Pintrest board and boyfriend to prove it). I collect gingers. Sue me.

Looking back, there was one particularly poignant character that I was always obsessed with. In fact, I pretty much wanted to be her: Pippi Longstocking.

Now, if you’re not familiar with the story of Pippi, here’s a quick run-through:  Pippi is a 9 year old pirate’s daughter (which explains so much about what happens to all of those kids) who lives alone in a mansion (with the exception of her spotted horse and pet monkey) and usually can be found with her hair done in two braids – sticking straight out. She does periodically see her father, so he can give her treasure and coins for her to live off of, but mostly she runs around having adventures with the village kids.

She goes places. She does things.

Since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to go places.

I’m honestly not even sure how the whole “grown up” thing happened… because the last thing I remember, I was 10 years old.

Little dreamer. How was I supposed to know that traveling would become such a big part of my life? How could I have known that I would be able to take those adventures I dreamt about, while I was sitting on the couch in my childhood living room?

But it did. And I got to. And I wouldn’t trade my life for the world.

One of the main things I loved about Pippi Longstocking was that in the 1969 Swedish (English dub) videos we had, she took these other two village kids with her on adventures. Like in a hot air balloon. She didn’t need someone to give her permission. She ruled her life. She made her decisions. She was limitless and bold.

My birthday is this on Monday and I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s next for me. I’ll be tipping in the direction of 30, this year (which is crazy to think!) so I feel like I need to rewrite a list of goals to conquer.

So much has happened in the past 5 years, and so many dreams have been fulfilled.

So what’s next?

ee831714772c4c5cb5ebc7a9944fe5fdWell, as much as I’d love to give you a sneak peek into my future, I actually have no idea what this next year will hold. I might be taking another big trip. I might be going back to school to pursue higher education. I might write a book. I might paint a mural. Who knows? Maybe all, or maybe none.

But I think, at this point, it’s more about dreaming of new tomorrows.

I met someone once who told me I seemed younger than I was because I haven’t lost hope in my life. A comment which was met by the rest of the group nodding in agreement. But hey, why have we all lost hope?
I refuse to stop dreaming of new goals and new ambitions.

For 26 I want to dare more, dream more, work harder, reach my goals and keep living like crazy.
And I want to take you all in my hot air balloon, with me.

Dream with me. Whatever it is that’s holding you back from pursuing that little whisper of a dream in your heart, I dare you to unclench your fists, and ask the question of, “What if?”

Something I’m learning more and more is that the things that I regret, in my past, are the missed opportunities. Because, even the failures resulted in helping to mold and build me into someone who is so much stronger and so much more daring.

But I feel like most of the time I’ve known what I should be doing. The hard part is listening to that voice. That little tug on your heart. That little whisper of your soul. Don’t ignore it! Who knows what the future holds. But I do know that I’m fabulously excited for the 26th year of my life.

And lastly, I leave you all, my darlings, with the English version of the 1969 intro song to one of my favorite childhood movies. Enjoy.

Why Tina Fey is Wrong – You Shouldn’t Have It All

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The other day I was clothes shopping and spent close to a millennia in the store…but only 3 things. SHOCK. Despite what my American upbringing echoed in the back of my mind:

“You should have bought it all!”
“You’ll look better walking out with overflowing bags on your arms.”
“How do you call yourself an adult without being able to splurge on payday?”

I wasn’t “sad” that I had “only” found a few things – I was elated. Why? Because what I bought was what I really really wanted. It wasn’t because I was broke, it wasn’t because nothing else worked, it was because I only bought what I was really passionate about.

I know, crazy.

Yesterday I went to the grocery store. And while I was there I had to wonder: Why are American grocery stores the size of small villages? Have you ever been in a European grocery store? There’s like 8 aisles and one option of each thing (Yes, even in Paris). Why? Well for one thing, it’s because they don’t have to worry about organic – it’s all organic. The other is because life in general is more straight forward. You get what you need and then you move on with life.

And while we’re on the topic, have you guys seen that “Impulse Buy” Tina Fey commercial, if not watch it, below.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a BIG Tina Fey fan, but every time I see this commercial I think about how intense the culture of, “I can, therefore I will,” is in the U.S. Not saying it’s always a bad thing, just that it’s problematic, in that it creates this idea that all that is going to make you happy.

Clarification: I am no proponent of the kind of minimalism that Scandinavian countries advocate for. I know that works for some, and high-five to them, but that is NOT my aesthetic. I love having tons of art supplies, and bookcases overflowing with vintage/sketch books. But, something that I think has really stuck with me, from living in France, is that you don’t NEED to have every version and every color and every brand of something, in order to be happy. I mean, I basically lived out of two suitcases for A YEAR (and one of those suitcases was just art supplies) and I was perfectly functional.

During that year I had a lot (probably too much time) to think, and I was able to really analyze what was and wasn’t important/necessary in my life. Essentially, I learned what makes me happy. And, the emphasis here is what makes me happy (this is not a guide to making the world happy, again).

So, here’s what I learned and continue to implement in my day to day:

Languages are my passion:
I’ve always loved learning other languages (except Spanish, which for some reason I CANNOT pick up) and I love exploring the cultures that come with them. Studies show that learning/speaking other languages can actually make you happier for a multitude of reasons, including reducing stress, helping you feel more connected to other people and of course there’s the “chocolate cake high” that comes with learning new words. Regardless of what the motivation is, I love the idea that we can add so much value to our lives for (especially with online resources like Duolingo etc) little or no money.

“If we spoke a different language, we would perceive a somewhat different world.” –
Ludwig Wittgenstein

Art makes me whole:
While I was in France the two things I chose to spend my pitiful allowance on was postcards (another passion of mine!) and art supplies. Why? Because I literally start losing my mind if I can’t create art. Whether it’s painting or drawing (I learned in France, I actually can draw) I love having art as a meditative part of my life. Hop over to my Facebook page if you’d like to see what I’m currently up to, or you can check out my Pintrest board to see some of my drawing projects from France.

Learning new things enriches me:
Three words: Khan. Coursera. Skillshare. These are the trifecta of my learning (with perhaps some PBS worked in there) and I love taking classes, picking up new skills and learning about the world around me.

Khan Academy was one of my favorite resources when I was in France, because it’s totally free and you can take classes on a million different subjects, including Pixar animation (also, because I’m a Trekkie – ha). I’ve taken ALL the history classes, and I regret none of the time spent. They also have science, art, coding, and math (gross – but if you’re into that kind of thing).

I also love Coursera, although now they’re starting to charge (but you can find hacks by Googling how to get the classes free). Coursera allows you to take academic classes from universities and professors all over the world, which I also think is amazing.

And lastly Skillshare is amazing for learning new creative things like drawing, photography and even cooking! I’ve learned so much from this resource, and the monthly subscription rate is about the same as Netflix/Hulu (but way more valuable, in my opinion).

Books are beautiful:
The Christmas before last I spent my day wandering Paris, and buying a bunch of classic literature. Why? Because for some reason, in Paris, the cheapest books to buy (we’re talking like 1 euro) are the classics in English. Needless to say, I’ve now read pretty much all of Jules Verne and Jane Austen. Books don’t have to be super expensive (especially if you’re finding them used) and yet they have the amazing ability to transport you all over the world and on a million different adventures. I’ve always been such a bookworm, but I think there was definitely a post college (or even during college) period of time when I forgot how much I loved them. I don’t have as much time now, because obviously I’m not a kid running free, but I do try to make sure to carve out 30min-1hour of reading time, each day. What am I reading right now? The Outlander series, and it’s making me want to go back to Scotland real bad.
WARNING: These books are mammoth.

I don’t need a million friends:
Okay, so let’s talk popularity contest. Why, oh why, do we have to feel like we need a million people who you’re “best friends” with? Unknown. But it’s a thing. And, as a proud introvert, it’s a lie I’m not buying into, anymore. I love me time, and I love alone time. It’s when my brain is settled and happy and free and I come up with my best ideas and creations. I do love the friends that I have, and I do love meeting new people, but not under the pretense that if I don’t have 12 friends I’m Snapchatting every night I’ll shrivel up and die like a raisin. Nope. I’ve had to fight hard for it, but creating that space, and bringing in only people in who understand that I need alone time has made me much happier than a thousand friends ever could.

My faith is really important to me:
My faith, like meditation or exercise, is something that keeps me whole. While I’m not sure that I would describe myself as specifically one denomination, Christianity is a really important part of my life, and one that inspires and strengthens me, daily. It’s not perfect, and neither am I, but it’s something that no one can buy, trade or take away and that makes it an invaluable treasure in my life.

What about you guys? Yeah, shoes are awesome, but what else makes you really glow with happiness? Comment below!

I Dare You

Published on by EmileeLeave a comment

This is a dare for all of the women out there, who feel trapped in the mundane, and unable to explain, why their feet won’t move forward.

There’s a quote that says, “I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question.” 

And today, as I’m sitting in this tiny room that I pay for, yet never live in, I wonder why I do the same.

Restrained.

I’ve been learning how to separate my anxiety about being alone and my lust for it. On the one hand, the magic of colorful cities and landscapes pulls at my heart.

And on the other…well, I’ve forgotten.

Why are we still here – near enough to wish for it, but too far away to run.

Who am I? It’s a question that has been wondered and asked for days, and years and millennium. And yet, no one has come up with an answer,

Perhaps it’s because there is no sure power that ensures that we leave this earth feeling more hope than helplessness. Did we do enough?

I have seen rolling hills that stretch farther than my eyes can imagine, and while standing there, my heart and mind beat in tandem,

I always knew I would walk back to this tiny room that I pay for, yet never live in. Why?

But maybe that’s the truth of it all, life is a debit card that we’re eternally swiping, the balance continually falling, until we’re holding our breath – just hoping that we’ll see the word, “Approved.”

Approval is the killer of dreams, and sometimes I just want to scream while walking down the street, just to watch people look at me.

Although… I learned long ago, that looking isn’t seeing, and yelling isn’t the same as screaming, so maybe it’s that I want to yell from the mountain-tops, “IS THIS ENOUGH?”

Are we enough?

This confusion used to feel so far away, like it stayed at bay just lapping against a great American shore, playing with our faith in humanity and whispering “In God we trust,”

Lust for life. Lust for living. For standing at the very tip of the ocean and feeling the wind coat your lips with a salty kiss. To taste the sea, to glory in the sun rising over thousand year-old ruins.

Have the courage to push back. Ask more questions and search for more answers.

Buy plane tickets, and bus tickets, and train tickets and explore cities and towns and countries, and streets. Don’t be afraid to take a step out your front door and let life sweep you away.

Stay:

Happy.

Content.

Filled with life.

If bravery ever needed a voice, it is yours.

Invincible Me

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Memories are funny things. Childhood memories can be filled with imagined wonder, or overwhelming pain. And, looking back at my crazy bookworm artist braided hair younger self; I see so much more insight into who I am, and who I am becoming, as an adult.

Looking back, I see all of the laughter, the imagination, the beauty, the pain, the curiosity, the anger and confusion – and I sometimes think I was so much more intact when I was a child. Because, back then, I didn’t worry about being filtered. I laughed and danced because it was time to laugh and it was time to dance, not because I had been told by society to do, or not to do, one or the other.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about when I was 11 years old.

My grandma, who I had only met once, had died and I was laying on my bed, curled in a crescent shape. Alone. And wondering if I should cry. At the time, I suppose it would have been the right thing to do. But all I could do was sit there, curled up, wondering whether I was supposed to do it.

That was the beginning of a pretty unhealthy relationship with tears.

You see, I was raised in a very non-emotional family. We didn’t cry, hug, say ‘I love you’ or talk about emotions in pretty much any other way. We were strong. We were invincible. Or, at least, in my naivety, that’s what I thought.

Over the next decade I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry at sad movies, funerals, when pets died, or when sad things happened in the world. I was invincible. I was strong. Or that’s what I told myself.

I still can count the number of people who have seen me cry on one hand. It’s a pretty rare occasion, and like any natural phenomena it’s usually brief and then gone, like it never happened in the first place. Crying just wasn’t ever an acceptable means of communication in my life.

Then I moved to France.

Americans make fun of the French, a lot, for how emotional they are. And, to a certain extent, those jokes aren’t always wholly unfounded. In my one year in Paris, I saw more tantrums, and crying fits than I had in my entire existence. And I’m not talking about from the kids.

Maybe it was the culture that was surrounding me, or maybe it was the trauma of being alone in a country 5,000 miles away from your next closest friend. But, when I lived in France I cried – quite a lot. In fact, I wouldn’t even say ‘cry’ is a solid enough word. I wept. A lot.

And while it still wasn’t in front of people, and there still weren’t tantrums involved, I think I have to thank France for giving me back my tears.

You see, something I’ve realized, since being back in the US, is how much more emotional I am. When shit is sad, I cry (sorry, for the swearword, mom). When I’m upset, I cry. When I see something heartbreaking in the news, I care…and sometimes I cry.

And while I may not be single-handedly supporting the Kleenex industry (yet), that’s a really big deal for me. But what’s more substantial, in my opinion, is the realization that for so long, I believed a lie.

Crying and caring hasn’t made me weaker.

It has made me so much stronger. I’m able to invest so much more in the people and relationships around me. It has pushed me forward, and allowed me to focus on creating a solution, rather than trying to control the problem.

I hear a lot about people who don’t cry: they’re tough, they’re cool, they’re manly, they’re invincible. But the truth is that we are broken. And don’t get me wrong, that’s not necessarily a bad thing – brokenness builds beauty all the time.

But, speaking from the other side, I’ve learned so much more about my own ability to rise higher, dig deeper and pursue and dream more. There’s something empowering about the ability to cry. In a way, I like to think of it like a phoenix burning. It can hurt to feel pain, and to allow your body to process it. But, in the end, it creates something even more beautiful; something renewed.

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Snot-Nosed Daydreams

Published on by Emilee2 Comments

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There’s something beautiful about waking up before anyone else does. And after the crazy itinerary that this trip has held, I find the silence addictive.

Right now we are in Stratford-upon-Avon, England. A little town with a big reputation for being the starting point for one of the greatest playwrights of all time – William Shakespeare. Last night we got in  and, on the train, I realized how much I’ve been running around during this trip, resulting in feeling completely drained, spread thin and emotionally exhausted.

Our itinerary so far has included Edinburgh, Scotland (where I spent a day) and Dublin, Ireland where I spent, per usual , not enough time. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say that I’ve spent “enough” time in Ireland. Which is probably why I never write blog posts when I’m there. How can I spend time writing on the blog when there are so many other things to do!? Ireland is the only place where my mind is clear. And as a result, I’ve been terrible about keeping you all in touch with what’s been happening.

While I was in Dublin I took a couple trips out of the city, which were both new to me and really lovely. The first one was to Malahide Castle, near Dublin, and the other was up to the Giants Causeway in Northern Ireland. I honestly can’t wait to get home, so I can add some pictures from the trips, because they both had absolutely breathtaking shots. Cliffs and causeways and castles are all things that just need to be shown in higher than phone photo quality, but if you’re curious before I put them up, you’re welcome to stalk my Instagram.

I do wish I had been able to spend more time in Ireland, though. Someday, I might learn, that planning multiple trips with Ireland as a stop never works – I think about it nonstop beforehand and never want to leave once I’m there.

This time is different, though, because I’m travelling with two friends and our bookings are all conjoined, meaning staying extra time in the city was not as easily accomplished. So, instead, I wept my way through Dublin Airport, and boarded a plane for England. As a side note, I would like to apologize for my snot nosed interactions with the Dublin Airport staff. Especially the lady in Security who started talking about the patches on my backpack, only to be met by uncontrollable sobbing.

To be fair, I don’t normally cry through airports, but for some reason leaving this time was so much harder. I think part of the reason why is that before, when I visited while living in France, I had the mental goal to get back home to Seattle. But now that I’ve been living in Seattle for 6 months, Dublin was the first time I realized how unhappy I’ve been there. Don’t get me wrong, I love Seattle, but I’ve felt so out of place in American life and culture, after living in Europe. I guess you don’t really realize how much a place has changed you, sometimes, until you go back. So maybe those airport tears were partially for that: realizing that going home felt like leaving home.

There have been some really great aspects to this trip, though. We’ve met some awesome people and seen some beautiful sights. Today we’ll do  little more exploring and then we’ll be off on a train to London. Tomorrow is the return journey home, and I can’t believe how fast all of this has gone. That being said, it will be nice to finally have down time and some recharge time (#introvert) after being surrounded for so long.

This trip has been completely different from any other travel experience, and so much more difficult in so many ways. I honestly probably wouldn’t do it again, but I think it has, in a lot of ways, opened my eyes to aspects of my life that NEED to be changed, and given me the drive to pursue them.

Setting out on another path with directive vision is absolutely terrifying. Last time this happened I ended up in France and the amount of work it took (physical, mental and emotional) was absolutely insane. I remember how much struggle that was, and the idea of doing something that big, again, seems like madness.

But I don’t know that I’ve ever felt called to live a tame life. And I’m not sure how much of a sane one I’d be inclined to enjoy, either. I think I’ve always been called to be the girl slightly out of place – a feeling that constantly pushes me forward into the unknown. Normal and ordinary have never been the paths I’ve taken, or even been drawn to, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t terrifying to be  trailblazer.

But I know that my purpose and calling is so much larger that my fear. And there is beauty in the broken stumbling footsteps you make while traveling off the path. Here’s to daring greatly. It’s funny how brave you become when you feel like you have nothing to lose.

Broken Hearts And New Beginnings

Published on by Emilee2 Comments

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When I was a kid I had this idea for my life. I thought I would grow up, go to college, graduate, meet this perfect person who would change my life, fall in love and check that off my list of successes – next step, world domination. Needless to say, life didn’t happen that way.

It got messy. Relationships got messy. And I got my heart broken.

I remember sitting in my room and wondering what I had done to have brought this upon myself!? I felt tainted. I felt like I should never be accepted or loved again. I remember my heart feeling like it had been put through a shredder. I remember feeling so much shame and so much despair.

But I shouldn’t have.

Because human heartbreak is something we all experience. Whether it’s from people, circumstances or the realization that dreams we once had aren’t turning out the way we had hoped. It’s a fact of life – and it’s one that I don’t think is talked about, enough.

Heartbreak is something you can write books about, warn people about, lecture about and it will still happen. And it will still hurt just as much.

But the story doesn’t have to stop there.

Heartbreak isn’t the end. It’s merely an evolution and transformation of who we are, to who we will are meant to become.

When I went through my first particularly bad break-up I remember calling my mom, snot-nosed and weeping, and her saying, “Emilee. This does not define you.”

I’m pretty sure those were the best words she could have said. In all of her Scandinavian directness (*cue Elsa singing “Conceal, don’t feel.”*) she hit on a valid, logical and very poignant point.

At the moment I wanted her to weep with me. I wanted her to pity me. But now I realize the wisdom of those words. My current situation didn’t define me. What did, was what I did with it. And THAT is what the conversations about heartbreak should be about.

Fast forward two years. Life is a lot better.

I took my heartache and I bought a plane ticket. I wrote about the journey. I found a community and met people who changed my perspective on life. I got some tattoos. I lived in a different country. I joined Twitter. I wrote about my travels. I rediscovered my love for writing and story telling – and you know what?

I did meet a “perfect” person who changed my life. And I did learn, slowly but surely, how to fall in love with them – the only thing was, the person I learned to love was me.

It might sound like the corny line at the end of a Disney Channel original movie, but when I look back, I’m not sure that I would have changed the way things happened (except I might not have stopped myself from slashing the tires of my ex). Life had a way of pushing me in the right direction, and I’m happier on this path than I ever was before.

Heartbreak taught me to love myself. It taught me to push forward even when I felt like I was being sucked backward into a vortex of despair. I didn’t know it at the time, but those experiences were paving a way for me to find my own purpose and meaning.

It’s been a while since I took that first backpacking trip. I had no idea what I was doing as I stepped on an airplane, headed to the UK. All I knew was that I was worn out emotionally, and I needed to get away. And now, just a month after my two-year anniversary of that trip, I’m headed back in the same direction.

It’s amazing how much can change in such a short period of time. This time the plane ticket wasn’t bought because of heartache; it was bought out of love. I’m not traveling alone I’m traveling with two of my closest friends, and I know quite a bit more about what the travel experience will be like, having now lived in, and travelled frequently around Europe.

Life has changed. It has kept moving forward. And the dreams that I have now are so much bigger and deeper and so much stronger than they ever were before. Heartbreak is not tarnish; it’s a badge of honor. It means you risked. You dared to love, dared to dream and dared to ask life for more.

So risk. Risk your heart, risk your dreams, risk your expectations and then rise. Regardless of the outcome of your daring ventures, make the outcome excel you to new heights. Because heartbreak is merely a transformation. And, like a phoenix, your circumstances only prove that you now have the opportunity to soar.

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My Heart Lies Over The Sea

Published on by EmileeLeave a comment

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I haven’t posted in a million years, and there’s a couple of reasons why.

Life is moving by at the speed of light, compared to what it used to be (even before I moved to France). I’m working my 8-5, M-F, saving up for my next big adventure and planning out my (very quickly approaching) next temporary one – backpacking though Scotland, England and Ireland!

All of this being said, things are pretty hectic, in general. I’m taking French lessons, again, and I’m getting ready to relaunch the website I’m an editor for (The Exploress)! In addition, I’m painting away to my little heart’s content, with orders coming in to my Etsy shop – which is so much fun – but MAN, life is hectic.

Lucky for me, my little holiday adventure back to the UK/Ireland is fast approaching – we’re only a little over a month away! I CANNOT wait until my feet touch ground again in Ireland. I’ll probably just have to spend a couple hours sitting by the Liffey and staring at Dublin (which I do pretty much every time I’m there, since I can never wrap my mind around the fact that I’m there for real…seventh time’s the charm?).

But most of all, I just want to have time to read and to write and to think straight without any distractions. American life is so much faster than I remember. It’s so crazy and a bit like an animal stampede for fresh feeding grounds. I don’t know if it’s always been like this, or if it just seems like this more after how slow my European life was, but I don’t think I like it.

I do love my life, and all of the activities. But there’s something very concerning about the constant mad rush FORWARD! FORWARD! FORWARD! It seems to me, that in our lust for progress, Americans have forgotten to ever enjoy what they have achieved – no matter how great it is.

Exhibit A: I have an iPhone 4s. It works fine, with the exception of the battery starting to wane, but no other problems. It takes perfectly nice photos, it makes great phone calls, it works with all the apps that I need, and yet (somehow) I’ve managed to slip FOUR generations behind in iPhones, while living abroad, and boy would you know it here. I’m not sure exactly at what point the piece of technology gripped so preciously between our finger tips, became our token of success, intelligence and forward thinking but it has. And I find that disturbing. Why? Well, I do think there are some people who actually use a phone as advanced as the iPhone 7 – but let’s face it, 98% of us barely knew any of the features on our 4’s. So why are we in this constant upgrade mode? Most people would be better off spending the money on a vacation to somewhere beautiful, but instead we stampede to the closest phone store and set up a payment plan to put us even more in debt. Why?

I read an article the other day about how science shows that we’re wired to actually gain more enjoyment from spending our money on experiences (ex. travel) than we are spending it on objects (ex. phones) – but how is it that this information does little to nothing to actually inspire change in our spending habits?

A lot of questions, I guess. But I would like you all to know that when I originally sat down to write out this blog post I only intended on posting pretty pictures of Ireland, and leaving it at that. So much for the plan. As life continues to tell us to rev our engines louder and louder in the ears of our neighbor, I guess I just needed to sit down for a moment, with my little blog family, and talk about how odd it is to seem to be so in between worlds. I’m not sure if I’ll ever fully feel like I’m home in the US or in Europe, but my heart (to steal a phrase from the movie Brooklyn – which you should all see) is now, at least, halfway over the ocean, isn’t that better than nothing?

When I called my grandma to wish her a happy anniversary, last week, she asked me why I could never be content. I don’t know the answer. And maybe the reason for not having one, is because my heart feels so flooded with questions. I’m not sure if out there, someone, is perfectly content with where they are, how their life has shaped and why things are the way they are – but I know I’m not that person. My heart longs for other places more than I can ever describe. I don’t know how to explain the feeling of happiness and fulfillment that I’ve tasted, but that I’ve never been able to hang on to. The reality of this life is that I may not ever know the answer to any of this.

In the mad dashery I’m left simply wondering how to ever find balance with the knowledge of what’s out there and the present position of being planted here…at least, for the moment. Ignorance is bliss, or so they say. And maybe it is, but part of me hopes that somewhere, sometime, I’ll remember how to feel at home, again.