Starting New in 2022
Well, well, well.
I’m back. My website license expired in September - just as I turned 30 and found myself alone, still in a Pandemic but now in Croatia. I started a new job only a couple of weeks after, left Eastern Europe, felt very isolated in Austria, partied all week with the gays in Budapest, and made the significant move to the Netherlands, where I’ve been ever since.
I really thought inspiration would come to me, as it did in all my travel days before. I thought for sure the holiday period would give me enough time to contribute back to this. My pen remained in my hand and my notepad is filled with jotted down ideas, thoughts and goals - they just never made enough sense. My handwriting changed like it did when I was young, as I navigated through another significant shift in my mental health.
I stuck with Matt for so long. I rarely shared the life we lived. After the embarrassing naive nature of starting and restarting again, slogging out a relationship through a pandemic - I guess I always knew I’d end up here. When that first panic hit in 2020, as I was a million miles away from home - their doors slammed shut to me returning - I leaned into a temporary life. It should have only been two weeks.
I was mourning the life I built, had no support from Australia or New Zealand, my family couldn’t bring me home, but I had him. I told myself it would be enough.
We planned to leave together, but I left first. I flew overnight from another argument and ended up in Tenerife for 6 weeks. We started again in Germany and spent a long 11 months together on the road. We shared a hostel room in Romania, built stairs together in Bulgaria, worked together in Albania. We fought, a lot. I was trying to build a freelance career. Matt well, he wasn't.
We had our problems, as all long-term couples do. This was the 2nd time I’ve travelled with a partner and let's just say, 'seeing behind the curtain' is an understatement. I had someone to share a space with, sure, but mentally, I’d be going insane. It astounds me that a mask can be worn so effortlessly when you date. I feel stupid for ignoring it when it slipped.
Don't fall in love with someone's potential. You are not an investor.
Who you see now is who you will see in 20 years. Only seasons change.
Croatia was our last effort. I’d dug into my retirement fund - the only money the Australian government was willing to give me - and paid for us to get there. I worked at the hostel, which paid for our accommodation. On nights off, I worked at a local bar for cash. With any free time in between, I was building RCG.
It took a few missed calls, an overheard conversation and a computer snoop to see what was going on. There was never a search for employment. There were hostel names. Flight searches. COVID-19 tests booked for the UK.
Two days later, I celebrated my birthday morning without him.
Two weeks after that, he was on his booked flight back to Manchester.
Two months after that, I found one of the girls on Instagram.
It’s been a very weird few months since then.
The world has opened itself up to me in so many ways. I’ve done so much and my list of plans stretch out, as my confidence and self-esteem get stronger than ever.
I feel like all the growth I went through last year has sat stagnant, and it just was released from my mind, my soul, my fingertips, my toes. There was so much of it, I drowned for a while. I swam to the surface and sunk back in. Holy hell, it’s exciting, but the significance of being 30 and all of this at once is intense.
But with that intensity, I’ve got an idea. It’s a goodie. It’s one that makes you flick a light on at midnight and jot down what you’ve been thinking about in the dark. It’s early stages, but it’s something I feel the world has pushed me into.
Keep an eye out.
P.S. I’d love to hear some of the stories you’d like to hear more of, or maybe some copy you’d like doing on your new project. Feel free to send me a DM on Instagram @rosiecolouredglasses and we can chat.