[dropcap size=big]W[/dropcap]elcome back to Wanderlusting, our guest author series in which we invite other intrepid travellers to share their most memorable travel moments.
This week we’re thrilled to introduce Toni.
Now that she has reclaimed her future she’s about to embark on a period of indefinite travel.
Having walked a long and winding road to arrive at this moment, her tale of wanderlust is an inspirational one.
Prepare to be inspired…
[divider] TRAVELLING WITH A BROKEN HEART [/divider]
If you have friends or family that travel, the likelihood is that if you suffer a broken heart, they will tell you pack your bags and go out into the world to mend it.
To go and βfind yourselfβ, accept who you are and be happy in your skin; something that wouldnβt sound out of place in theΒ book βEat, Pray, Loveβ.
But you know what?
Travelling with a broken heart was one of the worst things I did despite the valuable lessons that it taught me.
March 15th 2010 is the day that I began to learn some of the hardest lessons that life had to teach me, and the day that I began to regret getting on the plane to learn them.
Having left my 4.5 year relationship the previous year, I had been planning my trip for months when in the October I met a man who I fell head over heels for. He was everything I had ever dreamed of; gorgeous, owned his own home, a father (which didnβt bother me at all) and in a steady job; exactly what I wanted (and needed).
Weβd only been together for weeks but it felt so right. And then it felt all so wrong. Christmas time came and went, as did New Year and just as quickly as he came into my life, he vanished without an explanation.
[divider] LOST LOVE [/divider]
He got what he wanted from me and I never heard from him again. I was heartbroken but told myself to βstick it in a boxβ; I didnβt have time to grieve over the intense feelings I had; Asia was just weeks away; I needed to plan.
It was January 31st and I was in London seeing friends and researching travel plans when everything turned upside down. Feeling unwell all day I went back to my hostel early and in the dark of night, in my dorm surrounded by people, my baby died.
I didnβt know I was pregnant but before I realised what was happening, I was in hospital having leaflets put into my hand about how to deal with loss. I was in shock. I didnβt even know what hospital I was in. But it was the middle of the night on a weekend and I was being βdealt withβ as quickly as possible for more urgent cases.
It must be something the staff deal with on an almost daily basis but I felt as though my world had collapsed. I said nothing. I simply went back to the hostel and crawled into bed.
Just like I had done with my relationship, I told myself I didnβt have time to grieve and so βstuck it in a boxβ and ignored it.
I fell out with my entire family because I refused to talk about it with anyone. They didnβt want to accept that I wanted to deal (or not deal) with it in my own way.
Before I knew it, I was sat in the airport with mum waiting to go through to security but I couldnβt move. I just kept wondering how much money Iβd lose if I cancelled everything and walked away from the airport. I didnβt want to go but everything in the Universe was telling me to; Iβd got the time off work, I was hitting all my destinations in the perfect weather season; all the signs were there that I needed to get on the plane.
So I did.
[divider] STARTING OVER IN ASIA [/divider]
Iβd like to say that those 3 months around Asia were some of the best of my life but Iβm afraid I canβt because they werenβt.
They were some of the unhappiest and desperate weeks I have ever experienced because with no one or anything else to distract me, Grief knocked on the door and became my travel companion.
I cried on beaches, by swimming pools and often fell asleep with tears staining my cheeks. However, Iβd be lying if I said that I didnβt have good times.
I had a huge smile on my face when I was partying with the Scottish rugby team in Hong Kong, danced the night away without a care in the world with new friends in Koh Tao and when I learnt to dive around the Similan Islands, I was so blissfully happy I cried underwater.
However moments like that we few and far between; for the most part I was miserable. I didnβt want to go home but I didnβt have the energy or desire to travel either. I hadnβt felt so trapped in years.
I was grieving for both my broken relationship and my baby; everything that I had βkept in a boxβ came flooding out and I couldnβt stop it.
[divider] TRAVEL HEALS ALL WOUNDS [/divider]
I wasnβt ungrateful for having the opportunity to travel but I was too broken to appreciate it.
I canβt look back on my time in Asia as a whole and think of it as a happy time in my life because sadly, it wasnβt. People say that travel mends a broken heart but I think it only works if your heart is wounded.
When itβs truly broken you need time to grieve, whether itβs a relationship that has ended, someone has died or youβre just exhausted in life; you are so overwhelmed with grief that you canβt think straight and I couldnβt enjoy myself like I should have because Grief became my best friend.
I spent too much money, didnβt realise what certain places had to offer because I didnβt pay attention and didnβt explore because I didnβt care. It wasnβt my finest time in life.
The ironic thing about feeling so lost and grief-stricken in those 3 months was that it taught me invaluable lessons about myself and life.
I realised that I was stronger than I thought, that writing was something that I needed to make a big part of my life and that travel was the only thing that gave me a taste of what true happiness felt like.
When you travel, particularly if youβre by yourself, you are often faced with emotional baggage which you canβt hide from and if youβre not strong enough to work through it, it can take over like it did for me in Asia. Although there were happy times, I often donβt like to remember those 3 months.
Fast forward 16 months and I was back in the airport waiting to head to Africa to begin 7 weeks of camping across South Africa to Kenya.
[divider] HEALING MY HEART [/divider]
There were long days on the truck that forced me to face things in my past I had never felt able to before and though I cried; my tears were from relief instead of sadness.
My heart was wounded but I was strong enough to face my emotional fears in life. I look back on my time in Africa and know that it changed my life, as Asia should have done but my heart has not been ready for it.
This time, I ‘opened the boxβ and let out my emotional baggage so I could sort through it. It wasnβt until Africa that I finally accepted what I had lost the previous year and unlike Asia, Africa healed my heart instead of breaking it further.
I am now 4 weeks away from a life of indefinite travel and though I travel with a heart full of past regrets, worries, fears, the unknown, hope and love I know that the more I travel, the stronger my heart will become.
I regret travelling with a broken heart but Iβm looking forward to travel healing my wounded one…
[divider]β β β[/divider]
Have you travelled the world with a broken heart? Perhaps travel healed your soul? Share your comments with me below.