I’ve reached a bit of a turning point in my life that I really wasn’t expecting. I started this blog when I made the big move to Edinburgh, my life on my back and a literal Earth angel by my side. We were young (still are!) and excited to dive headfirst into a myriad of opportunities for reinvention. At the time, I didn’t think I was running from anything. I was running towards a life that felt less stagnant than the two years post-university that I was drowning in an unfulfilling 9 to 5. But of course, hindsight is 20/20. I was most definitely running away from some things—lots of things, actually. But I don’t think running away is always the wrong thing to do, context-dependent. For me, it brought a lot of much-needed attention to fault lines in my soul that required mending. I realized I was deeply depressed and didn’t want to live that way anymore. And though I didn’t have the language to describe insecure attachment at the time, I was struggling with it. I didn’t know how to be single. I didn’t know how to spend time alone and really enjoy it. I didn’t know who I was or what made me happy, and I didn’t know where to start seeking out those answers.
Time went by. I began going to therapy and went on anti-depressants and tried my damndest to get comfortable being on my own. I travelled alone. I spent lots of solo time writing. I even took myself to see my fave musician in Glasgow when she was in town. I dined alone. I watched movies in the cinema alone. I went to bars alone. And all of that relishing in my own company that I did, I brought it back with me when I eventually returned to Canada. I gotta say, I’m incredibly proud of everything I’ve accomplished, just me. I don’t think 22-year-old Tori would believe the things we’ve done if I went back in time and regaled her with all our adventures.
But this year, I’ve changed a lot. All the things I became so comfortable doing on my own, I am no longer enjoying the same way. I think I’m ready to start adding some company to my gallivanting. My lone-wolf-pack mentality isn’t serving me the way it has over the last eight years. It scared me at first, this big shift, but I’ve come to accept that it’s not a bad thing. I’ve proven to myself over and over again that I got this, but maybe it’s time I accept the help people offer and learn how to compromise and bring people along with me on more of this journey. Life is sweet alone, but life is also sweet in the loving embrace of all the incredible humans I’ve picked up along the way.
I’m realizing that all this aloning I’ve done for so long has left me a little, well, hardened. You have to be hard when shit around you gets tricky and you’ve decided not to lean on others. I’ve made moves to open myself up more to people over the last few months, and that’s brought a softening—a return to the cuddly, sensitive, outgoing, warm, playful little kid I was forever ago. It’s a special time, to say the least, and even though all this growing has its pains, the glowing that comes from the growing is well worth the aches.
Love always,
Tori (in all my iterations)
The Abroadening 