I’ve always been jealous of the life she had. It was a life that I could have only dreamed of.
I even wanted her struggle. She is strong and she is power. She is hard and she is guarded.
I know now that it is foolish to go forward looking for her experiences and settling for my own.
I no longer want to settle, I want to rejoice in the magic of my own journey.
I have never been my mother, nor will I ever be. I can only hope to be.
But everything she has done has allowed me to become fat with privilege and opportunity.
Travel takes control away from us, exposing our weakest points. We are acutely aware of our vulnerability. We are naive, unaccustomed, unacquainted, unversed. We are ignorant, roaming in the darkness of the unfamiliar. We are lonely, lost, disoriented. Travel pushes us across the chasm. We are moved to explore the mysterious, to confront our fear, to venture beyond the challenging, cryptic crevasses of our path.