Itchy Feet

I made a decision this week. A really big decision that I’m increasingly appreciating the scope of. 

I decided it’s time to move again. I have that familiar itching in my little feet pulling me to pack up and go. I’ve been feeling the anxiety of limbo lately – just a current of unease vibrating below the surface, my general FOMO at odds with being aimless. I struggle a lot with the idea of just treading water.

The last few months have been amazing in a lot of ways, not least in terms of personal healing and growth. I feel connected to myself again, very much my own phoenix-like rebirth. The people around me are MY people. They inspire me and boost me up all damn day, and their lights shine bright. 

However, one of the unexpected effects of all this has been to highlight the other areas in my life where I’m not growing. I enjoy my job, but it isn’t what I want to do long term. I’ve learned as much as I can and moved as far as I can. And when I first moved to Australia, it was always meant to be a temporary state. The original plan was for my partner and I to come here to save, to pay off my student loans quicker…but the universe gives no fucks about our plans, haha. So three years later I’ve outgrown the boundaries of that relationship, I haven’t paid off those loans (living alone in Australia ain’t cheap), and I’m a better human being for all of it. But this was always a step towards bigger goals, different dreams, another place. And it’s time to move.

When the idea clicked into place I felt a calm settle in. Because I’m not heading for new territory this time. I’m going back, back to my favourite place in the world. Scotland has been calling me back for seven years, and it feels like the completion of a cycle – like everything has been leading back to this. 

So now it starts. Budgeting, visa applications, checking out flights. Geeking out over all the little details. Trying not to grin too hard when I imagine getting on that plane. Embracing my itchy feet. 

Anyone else feeling the pull of greener pastures? Where you heading?


Miss Guts

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