Several years back, I think it was 2001 or 2002, I moved 8 times. EIGHT. My father dubbed me “The Gypsy Queen” and I can’t say that I hated the nickname.
I have recognized a pattern in my life since then; one of moving, changing, evolving, never settling. This always reminds me of my childhood when I was running away and never felt “stable” or at peace. I constantly felt a pull or a need to keep trying something new and different.
My biggest passion is to travel and explore. The World, really. And often I feel this is why I’ve never a) found a true home or b) found a true soul mate.
As I am packing up my life (aka possessions) once again this weekend, I can’t help but feel excited and hopeful, like I always do in these situations. The hope of something bigger and better around the corner.
I doubt I will ever have true roots set down anywhere. And that thought doesn’t scare me; it encourages me. I am a Bohemian at my very core.
Even being a parent, this hasn't deterred my true nature and I know this will only benefit Berlyn one day. I want her to see things and experience things others haven't. It is possible to raise a child with structure AND adventure, regardless of what anyone says.
In the words of U2, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for….and it feels good to me.