SIX MONTHS AGO, I DID THE UNTHINKABLE: I gave up a dream job as a travel writer for a desk job at a startup in New York City. It was a challenging transition, and there are times I miss it a lot. But I know inherently I had to do it. Here’s why:
Travel is exhausting.
No matter how often I did it, traveling never felt routine. I never got over the jet lag. I never slept well in a bed that wasn’t my own. My FOMO caused me to get up early and stay out late to squeeze in experiences, but napping at my hostel in Reykjavik felt like cheating. I drank too much, ate too much, and had sex with way too many European hotties. Flying once a week took a toll on my physical and emotional self, and being away from loved ones for so long put a lot of strain on my relationships.
No, I couldn’t handle it. And I’m not afraid to admit it, because continuing like that would have run me into the fucking ground.