I wish life was an island.

Personal Column about a life of freedom, borders and being tired.

Once upon a time, that moment comes again. That sweet, bright moment. For some it’s often, for some it’s only every now and then. But suddenly; there it is. Time to pick a holiday destination!

I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s hard. So many places to see, so much to explore.

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And then, there’s the following knowledge.

Once the destination is picked, the bags are packed and the flight has been taken… There’s still stress. Because once you set foot at your destination — where do you go? How far are you willing to drive? Are we really sticking to just one area? What do you mean we’re not traveling another 3 hours - I saw a great village on the map!

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I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling this way. (Like, actually sure, because I’ve continuously spoken about this with my friends). This piece -kinda- builds on the hope that you know that feeling, too.

That feeling of ease, of certainty and of contentment. You know, that feeling of choosing an island.

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Oh - the peace one can feel through having a clear frame to work with. To having borders, limits, natural stopping lines.

To know how far you can go, and the knowing that you can do anything you want within those borders.

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Funnily enough, I am quite the contradict, usually. I’m someone who will normally push you to stop believing in borders. I’m a firm believer we can do anything we want (not everything, but anything). Life is bendable, limitations are illusions and freedom of choice is the end goal.

It’s how I reprogrammed myself.

It’s what I truly, deeply belief.

It’s how I live my life.

It’s incredibly fucking tiring.

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Because here’s the thing: I couldn’t make a choice if my life depended on it.

And with great freedom, comes a lot of fucking choices.

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I miss that feeling in real life. That feeling of certainty, that feeling of peace.

That knowledge of ‘I can do whatever I want within these borders, and I know I have enough time for it all’.

Just any sliver of ease, really.

I miss that.

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Life is incredible. There are endless opportunities, there’s so much possible if you really go for it. But it’s so hard to really go for it, when that means you’re actively not going for all the other great options.

How does one choose?

How in the world am I supposed to choose between becoming a solitary writer, nestled in the Scottish cliffs,

A high end interior designer in the big city,

A wellness girly in Bali,

A flower-shop owner in the Provence,

A retreat host in Portugal,

Or build a cool corporate career?

Or keep van-living around the world?

Maybe become a content-creator after all?

Spend more time in your homeland?

Just get a remote job?

And have you even thought about becoming a mom?

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I wish life had some borders. I’m truly glad I broke through the imaginary ones (because ‘societal’ borders are just that), and I am glad there are no borders. But I wish there were. But I’m thrilled there aren’t. (Still following? Me neither.)

In the end, the conclusion is that a life of freedom is tiring.

It’s worth it, but it’s tiring.

Making choices, big choices, every day — it’s tiring.

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I wouldn’t have it any other way, in the long run.

But some of these days are like today. And today,

I wish life was an island.