Settling Down or Pausing Travel

Backpack, camera, and coffee by a window overlooking a city at sunset with text reading “Everywhere Feels Like Home, And Nowhere at the Same Time".

On freedom, belonging, and choosing a life that doesn’t have to be permanent.

Traveling has given me some of the most liberating, empowering feelings of my life. It teaches you freedom in the purest sense — you can go anywhere, reinvent yourself, and live on your own terms. But it also comes with a quieter, more complicated emotion that people don’t talk about enough: feeling home‑free.

When you travel long‑term, your heart starts to belong everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You have many homes, but all of them come with an expiration date. You pass through people’s lives — deeply, intensely — but rarely constantly. And sometimes, in the middle of all that movement, a question sneaks in:

What would it look like to settle down for a bit?

This blog is about that question.

When Freedom Meets Stillness

Constant travel is exhilarating. The freedom to roam, to change plans on a whim, to wake up in a new place — it’s addictive. And yet, I’ve caught myself more than once wondering what it would feel like to pause.

To find work in one country. To create a routine — going to the gym, building hobbies, discovering my favorite local cafés and grocery stores. To have friends I can see without months of planning, where they can drop by my place and we spend nights laughing, dancing, drinking wine… or simply cooking together, watching a movie, and talking until the morning sun hits the window.

That image keeps returning, and it made me realize something important.

Why I Travel in Seasons

Instead of choosing between constant movement or permanent settling, I’ve created something in between.

I travel in seasons.

For me, that means working for 3–4 months and then traveling for the next 3–4 months (long‑term), and repeating that cycle.

For the past year, I’ve been traveling full‑time. I don’t own material things — no house, no car, not even a permanent address. Everything I own fits into one bag: a laptop, clothes, and a camera.

Last year looked something like this:

  • Six months in the Netherlands, working for part of that time because it’s an expensive country
  • Three months of seasonal work in Croatia
  • Four months traveling in Mexico
  • Back to the Netherlands to work again, save money, and prepare for my next long‑term destination — somewhere in Asia (still undecided… ADHD decision‑making activates strictly last minute 😂)

When I say long‑term travel, I mean choosing one country and staying for at least three months, usually in one city, so I can actually experience life there — not just pass through it.

Short-term travel, on the other hand, is when I have a temporary base (like now, in the Netherlands), and my main goal is to make money.

That’s the difference: in one, I wander and explore; in the other, I work to earn the money that sustains my lifestyle.

At the moment, I’m volunteering in a hostel while also working in a warehouse. That income covers my expenses here and allows me to save for my next long‑term journey. And this rhythm — work, save, travel — is what I’ve been living for the past year.

The Feeling That Signals a Pause

Still, sometimes that feeling shows up.

The desire to have friends in the same country. To go for coffee or a walk without planning months ahead. To not coordinate meet‑ups across continents — and only if everyone can afford it (crying in nomad).

For me, that feeling is a sign to slow down and look inward.

I ask myself:

  • Do I want to belong somewhere?
  • Am I missing my friends?
  • Am I actually burned out?
  • Or do I just need food, water, and a nap?

Sometimes it’s deep. Sometimes it’s surprisingly simple.

One thing I’ve noticed after meeting so many different travelers is this: people who travel consciously tend to be incredibly in touch with their emotions. That emotional awareness feels like one of the healthiest mindsets I’ve encountered — and one of the reasons I love this lifestyle.

Settling Down Doesn’t Have to Mean Forever

Here’s the part I want to say clearly.

If you want to settle down, you can. You can book the flight, return, rebuild a routine, rent an apartment, find work, and create stability.

Nothing is permanent.

For me, it’s not about settling down forever. It’s about settling down enough.

Enough to have a routine.
Enough to work.
Enough to meet local people and eat at the same spots.

But not so much that I have to navigate heavy bureaucracy, chase a lifelong career, buy property, or stay rooted in one place for years.

Even writing that last sentence gave me anxiety — and that’s how I know my answer.

Not now.

Maybe later. And that’s okay.

There Is No Right Way

We don’t need to live one way or another. There is no correct formula for life.

The only question that matters is:

Am I happy doing this?

That’s my compass. And right now, this life — temporary, fluid, seasonal — feels fulfilling.

So I’ll leave you with this:

What makes you happy?

Till next time,
💫 Wander Woman Quest

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