October Always Brings Change

There’s something about October that pulls at me. I moved to London in October 2006. I left to travel the world in October 2013. I came back to the UK in October 2016. It’s not intentional – I’m not sitting around in September thinking “time to transform my life again.” It just happens. Maybe it’s the autumn energy, the shift in seasons, the way everything feels like it’s preparing for something new. Or maybe it’s just coincidence that’s become meaningful over time.

Either way, October 15th marks twelve years since I left on the trip that changed everything.

The Decision to Leave

I didn’t leave with grand plans or specific goals. I’d burned out badly from my corporate career – the one where I’d climbed from trainee to director in five years, the one that nearly destroyed me. I just knew I needed to go, to travel at my own pace, to be open to whatever came.

I’d been traveling for years before that – two weeks here, three weeks there – but this was different. This time I had no return date, no schedule, no pressure to rush. I could stay in a place as long as I wanted. That freedom was intoxicating.

People asked where I was going. When I mentioned I wasn’t sure yet.. but mostly Asia, Africa, Middle East… , people would say “Aren’t those countries dangerous?” The assumptions, the prejudice, the certainty from people who’d never been to the places they were warning me about.

I went anyway. With an open mind and a backpack.

With my faithful backpack in HK

What I Found

For three years, I saw the world without filters. Not through TV news or political narratives, but with my own eyes. I stayed with locals, ate their food, learned their languages, listened to their stories. I immersed myself in cultures across continents.

And what I discovered was beautiful.

The joy and gratitude in so-called “third world” countries – people who had so little but complained about nothing. Kids playing football barefoot in the street, smiling wider than any child I’d seen back home. Communities that took care of each other, that valued connection over consumption.

I learned that the world is so much more beautiful than we’re told. That people are fundamentally good everywhere you go. That the narratives we’re fed in the West are designed to keep us afraid, to keep us separate, to keep us from seeing the truth about humanity.

The Crash Landing

I knew it was time to come back when I stopped appreciating it. I remember being in New Zealand – one of the most stunning countries on Earth – and feeling… nothing. After three years of seeing beautiful things every single day, I’d lost the ability to be amazed. That’s when I knew the trip had run its course.

I came back in the Summer of 2016, riding this incredible high. People are beautiful. The world is beautiful. Life is beautiful.

And then Brexit happened. Trump happened. I went from this euphoric understanding of human goodness to watching the West prove how dumb, how hateful, how easily manipulated we actually are.

It was devastating. I’d just spent three years seeing the best of humanity, and I came home to the worst of it. The contrast was almost unbearable.

Living With What I Know

Nine years later, the biggest impact of that trip isn’t the places I saw or the photos I took. It’s the knowledge of what life can be like outside the system.

When I was traveling, I only paid for three things: transport, food, and accommodation. That’s it. No bills, no taxes, no insurance, no endless expenses for things I don’t need. Life was simple, beautiful, and I felt in control.

Now I’m back in the rat race. Paying rent, paying bills, all sorts of taxes, paying car insurance, road tax, paying for a thousand things that keep me trapped in a system I know doesn’t have to exist. I’ve experienced freedom from it, and now I can’t unknow what that feels like.

That’s both the gift and the burden of that trip. I understand how beautiful life can be, and I also understand how stuck I am now. I’m trying to get out, but it’s hard when you’re part of the race whether you want to be or not.

Forever Grateful

The Impact That Continues

Romeo is six years old and he’s been to 23 countries. That’s not an accident. That trip showed me how important it is to see the world with your own eyes, to challenge the narratives we’re fed, to understand that people are people everywhere.

I want him to grow up knowing what I know – that the world is bigger and more beautiful than the narrow stories we’re told. That “third world” countries are often happier than wealthy ones, that gratitude matters more than comfort, that the propaganda we’re fed is designed to keep us afraid.

He’s already wiser at six than I was at fifteen. That’s what travel gives you when you do it right.

Twelve Years Later

The trip never really ended, not in the way most trips end. I never stopped traveling – that three-year journey was just the non-stop version. The openness, the curiosity, the refusal to accept narratives without questioning them – that’s still how I move through the world.

October still brings change. Maybe it always will. Maybe that’s just who I am now – someone who transforms in autumn, who can’t stay still, who needs to keep discovering.

If I could go back to October 15, 2013, I wouldn’t tell myself anything except: do what you need to do. Have fun. Be yourself.

Oh, and buy Bitcoin. A friend told me to and I didn’t listen. That’s probably my only regret. hahahha

But everything else? I wouldn’t change a thing. That trip gave me eyes to see the world as it really is, not as we’re told to see it. It gave me freedom, even if just for a while. It gave me the understanding that shaped how I parent, how I travel, how I live.

Twelve years since I left. Nine years since I came back. And I’m still grateful for every single moment of it – even the hard parts, even the crash landing, even the struggle of being back in the system.

Because now I know what’s possible. And once you know that, you can never fully settle for less.

Love & Light,

Emma