It started with stress. For the first time during my travels I have arrived at the point of truly not having enough money to sustain my travels. The stress navigated to a solution driven spiderweb, trying to find peace by controlling my mind. Then I wondered off to my younger sister. I haven’t spoken to her in a while, and damn I miss my sisters so much.

Then tears started to roll down my cheeks, once again staring at the ocean swell. Because for the first time I recognize the feeling of not having a home. The issue is however, there is no place that feels like home at this moment. The Netherlands is not calling me. Maybe Australia, but I have yet to experience it and will I be able to find a job there and fit in? It is difficult especially as I am starting to be confronted with the reality of not seeing my family, not having a stable job or building the life in the same city as all my friends. A part of me wishes I felt the urge to just go home and do exactly that. It would be so much easier. But I feel it is not the right move for me. Thank you universe. 

My path however, feels more uncertain. Especially now my only fundamental block, money, is running out. Trust the universe, trust my skills, trust… yeah well that’s a job in itself. 

During my breakdown, my tears could drown in the oceans’ waves that rushed ashore. Because beforehand I just finished a call with my dad. The most loving and warm father I could have wished for. I love him so much it brings me to tears when I think about it. But the tears also flow from the realization that my father is one connection in my life, I feel still needs attention. This is when the big emotions came into play.

Something I have come to realize now at older age, is that I missed my father as a kid in my life. His presence sometimes emotionally and sometimes physically. He has always worked his ass off to make anything possible for our family. He built financial security for us, he provided for us so we could live a healthy and full life, he took and played with us whenever he could, told us daily that he loves us, and offered us the biggest and warmest hugs a kid could wish for. Because of all of this, I have swallowed the feeling of missing him during these years. Not finding it fair, for the love he has and still gives us. 

I could start explaining to you my analysis on why I think I feel this way including my mother’s role, me being a middle child, me being a daddy’s girl and so on. But I won’t, as I have recently learned within myself that this diverts me from actually feeling the sadness. 

Now, living in a period with endless time and space, I choose to stop swallowing it and letting it surface. To take these tears by the hand and inviting them out. Doing this I realize how this childhood sentiment is still affecting my connection with my dad today. I don’t want that anymore. I want to feel our connection flow openly and fully. A big emotion I want to process internally, as my father has done nothing wrong. On the contrary even. He has been and still is the best father on planet earth. It is simply a feeling I embody due to the person I am, and therefore mine to set free.