I had it all.
Ok, maybe I didn’t have it all but I was doing pretty well by my generations standards.
I had a degree, a career, a good salary, my own apartment and a very, very good set of secure future prospects… and I gave them all away.
The metaphorical white picket fence was just over the horizon, yet the closer I got to achieving it the more I didn’t want it.
I quit my job, I moved out of my apartment, I became freelance on a salary far less than I was earning and I relinquished all promise of any secure future prospects. And yet, I am the happiest I have ever been.
I’ve never been content with settling for anything less than what makes me happy, and as I’ve grown older this is a feeling that has grown stronger.
I have one, very short, very fleeting life and I refuse to spend a second of it living in a way that doesn’t fulfil me.
As a person I have realised that I can live on much less than I anticipated. Contrary to popular belief I believe that money can indeed buy happiness, but if you’re tied to a 9-5 job and living for a 48 hour weekend, how much happiness can you really fit into this narrow window? Is it the stress and commitment worth it? Could you not earn less but be free to do more?
The feeling of freedom is one that I have always been drawn too. Freedom from working hours, freedom from working days, freedom from one singular location, freedom from someone else.
I don’t like to feel tied down, being tied down is to settle, to settle is to accept that this is it, and this is it means the end of life.
This is never it. There is always more, and I am discovering it on my own terms by following the road less travelled.