Sometimes you want to come home, even though you feel like you aren’t supposed to want to. Even though everyone else is telling you how jealous they are of your Instagram feed; how they want your life because it honestly looks like you’re living the dream. Even though you are living the dream and pretty stoked about it. Even though you know that nothing is changing back home; that everything will still be there whether you come home now or next year.

Even though everyone is sending you messages telling you about their work stress and how that guy still hasn’t called them back and how they spent their entire morning dealing with a broken water heater.

“You’re so lucky” they say, followed by something along the lines of, “Everything is the same here. Why would you ever come home?”

So then you think, why would I ever go home? I’m not supposed to. I’m supposed to keep living this dreamy little fantasy world and watching the sunset every night.

But what if despite all this – despite the fact you are happy and inspired and so genuinely sad at the idea of leaving this wonderful adventure; despite the fact you’ve met people who make your heart different and you’ve let yourself feel vulnerable and alive and free. Even though you’ve challenged yourself. You’ve learned how to read a map and finally know the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. You kind of like the fact you only have five shirts to choose from because getting ready doesn’t take time anymore. You feel encouraged and inspired and you just met a dog named Mop and who the fuck names their dog Mop? That is so brilliant and so cute and you have just never felt so confident and so happy and so in love with yourself.

EVEN THOUGH this is how you feel. What if you still want to go home? Maybe in a couple months. Maybe in a couple weeks. Maybe like, literally now.

You aren’t quite sure how to feel, and you aren’t quite sure what you’ll do when you get there, but you know you want to. You know you never intended to come across the world and start a new life. You always knew that home was waiting for you on the other side.

And that isn’t lame, and that isn’t passing up an opportunity, and that isn’t anything that you don’t want it to be. Even though not everyone understands this. Even though everyone else says that home is boring; that you should keep doing what you’re doing because LOOK WHERE YOU ARE! Even though you have this weird feeling that you’re letting people down by coming home, or not making the cool enough choice. Even though you yourself are a little bit scared of what it’ll be like when you get back there.

But like, fuck man. You still did something insane and brave and wonderful. You still tried something and you followed your heart and lived however you wanted to live. And whether that lasted six years or six months or six weeks, who fucking cares? There is no shame in ending that.

Besides. What are you even “ending,” per se? Who’s to say home won’t be a new big adventure in itself? I don’t know. Maybe you kind of want a routine again. Maybe you need to stop stretching your bank account so thin. Maybe a lot of things. But the point is, even if you’re in the most beautiful place on earth having the most magical time of your life, you’re allowed to go home.

You’re allowed to want to go home.

You’re allowed to simply not want to miss a summer at the cottage for no other reason than you love the idea of dockside Canadian beers with some people that you really, really care about.

You’re allowed to appreciate the life you left, because maybe you simply loved your life that much. And why is there any negative stigma about returning to that? It’s pretty beautiful, actually, to travel across the world and still love the life you left behind. That’s rare, and that’s cool, and that’s pretty exciting that you exist in a life that means so much to you.

And people won’t understand. “Look how far you’d gone already! Why didn’t you just stay there? Country hop! Follow the sunshine!” People will wonder this, and people will ask you this, and it’s not rude and it’s not judgemental and it’s not anything other than exactly what you would say to someone in the same situation. Because they don’t know. They don’t know what it’s like to be you and be in that moment.

And that’s okay. It’s okay to not understand each other and it’s okay to know that and accept that and do whatever the fuck you want to do anyway. Because you’re doing just fine. So keep following that heart of yours. Maybe it’s leading you to Bali for no reason other than you saw a pic and thought it was pretty. Maybe it’s leading you to chase that person to Vietnam because you just can’t let go yet. And maybe it’s leading you somewhere you love; somewhere you know isn’t going anywhere but still want anyway.

Maybe it’s leading you home.