I sold everything to travel the world.

Yup. You read that right.

It has been a while since I posted on here, and as a result, a lot has changed since my last update, including how: I am now 22, I decided to drop out of college to pursue my passion for writing, I have finished writing three books in eight months, two of which I am now querying for publication, and last but not least, how I decided to sell everything I owned in my Boston apartment, keeping only what I needed that could fit into a 40 liter backpack, all to travel the world.

It’s a lot, I know. So perhaps I should start at the beginning, with my decision to leave college.

While I am a major advocate for access to higher education and the benefits of continuing education beyond high school graduation, college has long been a source of my mental stress. Having to take classes that serve no benefit to me, all for a major I didn’t even like, let alone wanted a career in, left me miserable, depressed, and with crippling anxiety over grades and social expectations.

I also found after four years that I don’t like learning in a classroom. Great realization, I know. It would have been better though, had I made it sooner.

Instead, by year four, I found myself shoulder-deep in stress, looking at at least two more years of school before graduation due to how my credits transferred. It all felt pointless and like a waste of time when, especially when I knew what I wanted: to write.

Not for a news outlet or an editorial publication, but for myself.

Ever since I could understand the complexities of story telling, I have always dreamt of being an author. Somewhere between my childhood and teenage years, my passion for writing creatively was pushed onto the back burner as the demands of AP courses rose. But just as the saying goes: if you love something, let it go, and if comes back then it was meant to be.

And boy, oh boy, did it come back.

I began writing again last summer, first as an escape from the stress of academia, though it swiftly developed into a long-sought passion. I spent the early months of the fall attempting to write book after book, with none of them working out, partially due to a lack of planning (turns out, I work best when I plot every single of scene of my book before I even begin to write), but also because I didn’t have the time to focus.

I was balancing four highly-demanding classes, running an entire external program through an organization, and working a part time job. College was consuming any free block I had with course work, and not only that, but it was depleting every last drop of energy and joy I had, until I was nothing but a shell of myself by October. It was around this time that my physical health crashed, and I was ill for a month, forcing myself to sit down and really confront what was going on.

I came to my realization that I wasn’t living for me, but for others. I was afraid of stepping outside of what was “conventional” and “safe” out of fear for what others might think. But I was also tired of investing my time in areas where it was only being taken and never returned. I knew that even if I did end up following through and graduating, I would do absolutely nothing with my degree, and with two more years on the line, doing so was beginning to look like a straight shot to a miserable life.

It made no sense when I felt so strongly about writing. Or when I knew myself, and what I wanted out of life. It definitely wasn’t this.

If you know me personally, you know how driven I am. if there's something I want to do or achieve, you know darn well I'm going to do it. So I did it.

After several nights spanning over many months lost in the knotted fog of my mind, trying to figure out what I was meant to do with my life, I decided to rip the band-aid off, took the leave of absence, and became a freelancer.

I chose freelancing over any traditionally "secure" job because I wanted the freedom and flexibility after feeling restricted for so many years. I have struggled for a long time to find a direction to go with my life that didn't feel confining. every full-time corporate job sounded like I would have to sell my life and creative passions away to work a nine-to-fine with no real work boundaries after leaving the office and no true benefit to me and the dreams I want to achieve. Not to mention, it would require me to stay in one place and frankly, I'm not ready to settle and grow roots in one place.

The idea of doing such a thing at my age genuinely baffles me. There is so much I haven't seen and experienced—why would I stay in one place, work 30+ years to save up my money with only one vacation a year, just to do this when I'm 60 with health issues that limit me?

At the end of the day, I did what was best for me and all was well for a few months. I was able to write my first completed draft of my first book in three months. I didn't have the stress of course work or have to trudge through the winter sludge or risk slipping on ice. It was steady and peaceful.

But it was also isolating.

Though I could work from anywhere, I had unknowingly confined myself to my room and accidentally placed myself in the 9-5 pattern I dreaded. Weekends became sacred for recharging, but just when Monday ended, I was already drained again.

I pushed through, thinking it was nothing more than the good ole winter depression (which, in part it was) but also because I felt like I had to.

I thought: I'm 22. I'm an adult now. This just life.

But there was also one word that followed it: Why?

We idealize the 9 to 5. We idealize profit over well-being. We idealize being miserable with our day-to-day for the sake of stability—which, what even is stability?

So many aspects of life that we promote and emphasize as musts—stability, success, happiness, a good life—are subjective. they are defined by us.

I am 22. Most people my age are getting their first real job, beginning the start of their careers in a place where they will likely grow roots and continue to expand their life in accolades and milestones. By now, to societal standards, I should know what I want out of life and should be pursuing it—and I do.

But here’s the catch: my wants from life are not the conventional or stereotypical wants. And that’s okay.

I have never dreamt of having a cooperate job, or of having a stereotypical 9-5. I value independence and creative freedom too much to thrive in a static environment as I mentioned, hence why I chose to freelance after leaving. Knowing this about myself also led me to where I am now, making the decision to travel the world instead of settling somewhere and trying to build some semblance of a stable life.

I chose what was best for me, and with my lease ending in August, I decided to take the leap after spending a month in Scotland and realizing that, yes, it is possible to live a fulfilling life out of a backpack.

I know how privileged it is of me to say all of this, to have this opportunity to travel and live nomadically. It is also why I don't want to waste it.

Rather than force myself to conform to this idea of stability that we have been presented with since we were children, I want to explore, experience, meet new people, learn about other cultures, take the leaps with my career, and pursue my dreams beyond fear. For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to travel. I have always wanted to sell everything a live nomadically, whether it be for a month or several years. I have always wanted to do it, but I have put it off out of the fear of societal standards, and not to be cliche or anything: but we have one life.

I chose what was best for me, and with my lease ending in August, I decided to take the leap after spending a month in Scotland and realizing that, yes, it is possible to live a fulfilling life out of a backpack.

I know how privileged it is of me to say all of this, to have this opportunity to travel and live nomadically. It is also why I don't want to waste it.

If we don't act on our dreams now, we will only keep pushing them off until one day we think we finally have the time to do them, but we don't. because we are too old and have brittle bones and joint aches that we can't stop complaining about to the younger generations.

I was hesitant to share anything about what I am choosing to do with my life out of fear for judgment and misunderstanding. But at the end of the day, I am living for me. We don't know when our end will come. I would rather live my life to the fullest now, than wait and hope that one day I will be able to do what I've chosen to do now.

If you've made it this far, I hope you recognize the value in your dreams. whether it be to travel the world like me, or to buy a house and make a home, or have an impact on others through eduction and creativity. Whatever it may be, do it. You never know how much time you have, and you deserve to see your dreams through.

I’m not sure how often I will write an update on here, but if you would like to stick around, I would love to have you. Though if you would like more regular updates, I recommend following me on Instagram. Not only will you receive snippets of my adventures, I also share my writing journey and the many playlists I am beyond proud of.

Until next time, take care.

Rachel xoxo