I have wanderlust, and I’m not really sure where it began. I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world. I’ve never felt connected entirely to Arizona and though while I’ve been gone and I’ve missed it, there is no where in this world I really feel like I have roots planted, because life is so changable and it’s so easy in today’s day and age to be living in one state one day and then another the next. I’ve done it three times. I went from Arizona to Texas, then to Pennsylvania and finally back to Arizona. And that’s only in the last three years. There’s no telling what the current future holds for me, because I’m writing this before I’m even thirty.

I’ve been to California, Illinois, Ohio, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Texas (twice), Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, Mexico. Every experience I’ve had has been unique and this part of my book, I want to talk about the different places that I’ve been. Most trips have only been for a week or so, but each one deserves attention to detail and to be recalled with the fondest of memories, even if at the time, some situations I just wanted out of as quick as possible.

I feel blessed in a way, to have been able to do so much traveling. There are many people I know who have never left their home state. They’ve never had the ability or the desire to leave what feels comfortable. They don’t have the urges I do, to just get up and go somewhere new. I hate being tied down anywhere. It’s why my marriage didn’t work out.

Being a homemaker is ideal for some and I agree, there are things, like being able to spend more time focused on my writing where it’s an agreeable position to be in. But there is such a part of me that needs to overachieve and explore. I want to experience everything in life and I couldn’t do that from Queen Creek, Arizona. I was prone to fits of depression and mania. My ex husband hated my insomnia and the fact that I was never going to bed with him because we kept different schedules. I would get ancy, hate my life and feel overwhelmed, as if I was suffocating by everything around me and then I would tell him, I need to go for a bit. Just give me a week somewhere else. Let me fly, and I’ll be back I always come back.

I almost didn’t, once. In Washington. I was only a few months pregnant with my daughter and I felt really strange about the predicement I was in. I went to visit a friend because we were going to see, The Killers. I figured it would be a good last hurrah before motherhood it. I wasn’t so pregnant that I couldn’t get around. I wasn’t even showing yet, but I was having bouts of morning sickness. There were these two guys that sat near us at Denny’s. My friend and I, started talking about how cute they were. We started flirting with them. I got their numbers. I almost called. I thought about it.

I’m not a cheater. I’m not someone who condones it in any circumstance, especially with how things ended in my marriage because of my ex husband’s infidelities. Still, when you’re pregnant and you know that your life is just about to change you start getting some ideas. It makes me wonder if it’s the same sort of thing that went through his head before he slept with whomever it was that gave him the STD. Just sort of a “fuck it, why not?” moment. In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t and I still ended up coming home.

I was never unfaithful, but it was the first time I thought about it because when I go on my little trips, it’s almost like I’m someone else. I get to be the person I feel on the inside, only on the out and it’s an incredible feeling to not really care about what people think about you, because you’ll more than likely never see them again.

Washington was also special to me, because it was the first real trip I had made since I’d gotten married. It was the first time, as a married woman, I didn’t feel like a married woman because I was so far away from my husband. I got to just be a girl again and have fun, without thinking about what my husband might think about the conversations I had with my friends or what I was doing. We still spoke on the phone every night, acting as in love as we were at that time, but the space and the freedom made me feel like an individual person rather than have of a unit.

It makes me wonder if my wanderlust makes me almost incapable of being a typical partner. I want my freedoms to go places without a ball and chain. I want the people I’m with to feel that same sort of freedom, because through all my learning experience in my first marriage, I did reach an understanding that even as a couple, you need to be individual people and I think the space makes you appreciate the time you do have together when you get it, making it a stronger relationship. I see so many of my married friends who are never without their spouse and it just seems so overwhelming or suffocating. I did hate that my ex husband never traveled with me, but there needs to be a balance. Time together, time apart. Experiences together, experiences as individuals.

That wanderlust is never going to change in me, it’s always going to be a part of who I am and I think that’s okay. I’ve lived my life more thoroughly giving into that need and saying yes to experiences rather than trying to settle down and make house in a life that in all honestly isn’t something I really want, because it’s not who I am. I think that I’ve found the biggest parts of myself by being able to step outside of my self and my comfort zone and see new places and it’s something that I plan to keep doing. This is only the introduction to my wanderlust entries. I’ll be writing more about all the places I’ve been over time, but I feel like this is a good start.


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