Declaration of Dependence

Throughout my previous blogposts(which were written a long, long time ago, shame on me), I often bored my readers with how much I just love to travel. By the way, did I mention that I am super excited for my trips to Berlin and Montenegro? God, I just love visiting different places! Traveling is just so amaaaaaazing!

Lately however I have come to find new insights on my habit of not wanting to commit to a particular¬†country¬†and my continuous need to stay mobile. Namely, that I am terrified of being dependent. Traveling provides me with great excuses to keep my head in the sand, safely sheltered from adulthood. Thus I don’t have to commit to adult things such as buying a house, taking a mortgage, settling into a career, closing a one-year gym membership or thinking about the future at all. I can simply tell myself that, while I am not working towards a stable future I am at least mobile and independent.

Around me I see people signing declarations of dependence by getting financially involved with their partners, taking a million years to build that dreamhouse (mom, dad..), committing to, in their eyes, irreplaceable employers and worst of all having kids. And while I might turn out to be the washed-up girl from Lily Allen’s song 22, I spend every penny on seeing the world so these people can pretend to be jealous of broke, careerless and cultured me and I can pretend to be not jealous of them and their perfected homes and slowly progressing careers. Perhaps Dependence isn’t always bad and I should just sign that damn declaration.

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