Photo: Seattle from Kerry Park

I have less than two weeks left in Seattle. Two weeks from now, I’ll be traveling the world, starting in Singapore! Right now I’m having a hard time interpreting the significance of all that.

What this trip means to me is something I’ve been struggling with for a while now. On one hand, this is objectively a big trip. The idea for this trip was first conceived in 2016, after a successful year of studying abroad in Germany. Something about that year instilled a desire in me to travel as much as possible. Since then, every major life decision I’ve made has been influenced by this desire: my choice of college, my major, my choice of employer. Now, I’m quitting my job and have allocated the majority of my savings towards traveling as long as I want.

But on the other hand, I feel the need to temper my expectations. At it’s peak, this trip was going to be life-altering, transformative, truly meaningful. And what if it wasn’t? Would the integrity of my ego be completely ruined? That’s certainly how it felt. Or feels, even.

Intellectually, I know that just getting on the plane to Singapore means I already achieved success. I worked towards my goal, and followed-through on it. I’m still working on believing that, though.