I am a digital nomad and the older I get, the further away I feel from home.
I said goodbye to London in 2018 in search of a better life Down Under. And I found what I was looking for – a more relaxed lifestyle in the sun, near the ocean.
But recently, I’ve felt a shift. As I got closer to my thirtieth birthday, I started missing more important milestones. Births, funerals and everything in between.
Slowly, a niggling feeling has grown within me that I can’t escape. The fear that I’m growing apart from the people that shaped me because I’m not in the group photo or part of the wedding party.
But I chose this lifestyle. Shouldn’t I be grateful?
Moving away from home
At 21, I left the UK for a seven-month backpacking trip that would take me from Australia to Central America. The first stop? Sydney.
After my hard-earned cash ran out in Nicaragua, it was time to fly home. I remember telling my dad on the car journey back from the airport that I had decided to move to Australia permanently.
It took a couple of years to save up, but eventually, I touched down in Melbourne and stayed for four years. The city will always have a special place in my heart. It’s seen me go through breakups, a major career change and a global pandemic (who could forget).
Now, the Gold Coast is home. But right now…I’m writing this looking out of a window at the lush Sri Lankan jungle.
I move around more than most of the people I grew up with – my mum died when I was young and ever since I’ve had itchy feet. It’s such a cliché, but it’s true. I want to see and do as much as I can before it’s too late.
Moving…again
Like lots of people, I was stuck in a boxy two-bedroom apartment in Collingwood for most of the pandemic. It was rough. My boyfriend and I started thinking about what we wanted our future life to be like – more travel, more flexibility with work.
We moved across the country to the Southern Gold Coast, and I started working remotely for my Melbourne-based employer.
A year later I left my comfortable corporate job, started my own B2B copywriting business, and flew into Colombo three months ago. We’ve eaten the most insane dosai, surfed some incredible reefs (said hello to a few sea urchins along the way) and learnt about this beautiful country’s colonial past.
Sure, the big touristy trips like going on safari are amazing. But what I love about being a digital nomad are the small, spontaneous moments of magic that you don’t get at home. Joining a local volleyball game on the beach; sunrises you’ll never forget; the perfect wave with no one else in the water.
But it’s not all roses
So…I love where I live, I love having freedom to travel and I don’t want to move back to the UK. Why do I have this feeling I’m missing out?
The feeling is stronger than FOMO. It’s a sense I’m losing my connection to my roots.
It can overwhelm my thoughts when I find out about a friend’s engagement weeks after on Instagram. Or when I’m turning down another wedding invitation.
I find it hard to talk to my friends and family in the UK about this feeling. I don’t want to sound ungrateful…the beaches of Sri Lanka sound pretty good when you’re in the middle of a dark, rainy January. But I’ve found by not talking about it, it can get harder to relate to the people in my life that don’t travel at all.
I know I can’t have my cake and eat it too. We all want things that we can’t have, and on some level, I’m sure this is my ego talking. I’m worried I’m forgettable.
But I can’t help but wonder if this feeling will intensify the longer I stay away?
It’s not just me
The good thing is, I now know I’m not alone.
I had been having these silent thoughts for a couple of years. One day, after nervously telling one of my close friends I couldn’t make it to her wedding (I’d originally RSVP’d yes), I spoke to one of my other expat pals about it.
We were at a festival, it was late. In hushed tones, I said I was worried my friendships at home were fading away because I was MIA for so many big milestones.
Turns out, she was feeling exactly the same.
Now, my group of friends in Australia talk about this feeling often. Many of us are from overseas and share the experience of forgetting to reply to WhatsApp messages or having to navigate time zones to talk to loved ones. I also love talking to others going through similar experiences on Facebook – groups like Digital Nomad Girls Community and Freelancing Females are great for support.
I’m lucky to have a close-knit community here, made up of new and old friends, and my partner’s family. I’ve learnt not to take it personally if my mates back home don’t tell me big news instantly or reply to a WhatsApp for a few days. We’re all busy.
The moral of the story
Truth is, I don’t have the answers. But I get comfort from knowing it’s not just me feeling like this.
It’s a feeling I’m learning to live with – I think that’s the only way. When the emotion starts to build, I tell myself this is the price of moving away. That I’m lucky to have people to miss.
Working for myself helps as I don’t have to worry about how to spend my annual leave every year. After Sri Lanka, I’m taking a three-month remote working trip to Europe. I’m excited to spend some quality time with friends and family instead of a rushed two weeks.
When I think deeply about what I want from life, I know I don’t want to move back to the UK permanently. I’m in the right place. I’m just navigating a new phase of life in my chosen home.
To learn more about Caroline and her business STORY. Copywriting, click here.
To read more about travelling, head here.
