Uncategorized - Janel Has Wings

The Only Way to Is Through

by janelhaswings | Dec 5, 2023 | Life Experiences, Uncategorized

It’s been a long time since my last post, and to be honest, I didn’t think there would be another one. Not only had I lost my motivation to write and my connection to myself, but I’ve felt like I’ve lost my spark. I used to be so naturally high off life itself and felt like the human experience was the most beautiful thing, including the heartache and pain that comes with it. This past year has felt mundane and dull. That doesn’t mean it was void of extremely difficult moments because, trust me, there were a few months when I questioned if I was going to be able to make it. I had to constantly remind myself of one of my favorite personal sayings, “the only way to is through.”

For months, I’ve had the feeling that I needed to start writing again, but I kept subduing my inner voice by focusing on everything else. The fact is, when you’re constantly in survival mode, creativity takes a back seat—Writing? Instead of working and making more money? In this economy? Not ideal.

Therefore, my sole focus was to hustle to survive. Survival mode looks different for all of us. I’m aware that for some people, survival mode is surviving war, famine, assault, disease, etc. For me, survival was trying to afford life. Taking time to write felt like a selfish act. I felt like I wasn’t spending time on something that could get me closer to my goals; therefore, it was a waste of time. I realize now that it was a cheap excuse, but at the time, it was how I felt, and that version of myself didn’t know any better then. I forgive her.

This brings me to now, the reason why I am writing this. My “why” for starting my blog was to drag myself out of a deep, dark hole of depression and grief after the death of my stepdad. Writing is the most powerful tool that made me connect with that spark. I would sit and pour my soul onto my laptop and not think twice about it. And yet, this entire time, I’ve been searching for that same spark and I’ve refused to do the one thing that I know reignites it. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t think I’m a great writer. I’m far from it, but the one thing I do know is that when I write, it comes from my heart and soul. When I write, I am the truest version of myself. There is no denying that version of me. Which brings me to ask myself, was I not writing because I was trying to survive, or was I not writing because I was trying to ignore my emotions? Honestly, I don’t have that answer.

Sometimes the answers to our questions/problems are right in front of our eyes or rather right within us, but we refuse to listen. That voice that kept telling me to start writing again was begging for a chance to prove that it knew the way, and yet I kept ignoring it. As I said, I forgive that version of myself. She was just trying to make it.

As I mentioned earlier, this year has been filled with a special amount of trials and tribulations because, well, “adulting.” I don’t want to even get started on the trash-ass subject that is adulting but trust me when I say that if I could go back and tell God to make me a child for eternity, I would. This year, I’ve lost friendships that I thought were meant for a lifetime. A decision that I made years ago made a full comeback and smacked me straight in the face. It would lead to months of stress trying to figure out how to resolve it. Then, to add some spicy sprinkles on the top of the crazy cake that has been 2023, I decided to put myself back out into the dating world. I QUICKLY regretted that awful life choice. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.

Even though this year came with its own life lessons, I’m grateful that throughout it all, I’ve been healthy and capable of making it through. I’ve reconnected with some of my morning rituals that I had discontinued and started offering Reiki again. In the first part of the year, I travelled to Ireland and Scotland and visited one of my closest friends, which helped remind me how much I love to travel and how much I missed it. Slowly but surely, I’ve been starting to reconnect with my true self—the one that I had abandoned and ignored. The missing piece was what you have in front of you, my writing. I’ve decided that I’m not going to put any pressure into writing. I gave up the dream of having a famous travel blog a while ago because, let’s be honest, most people prefer to watch videos than read a blog. But I’m going to continue to write to find the words that connect me to my true self, and who knows, maybe they will connect someone else to theirs.

This post is dedicated to Daniela. The words will come back, I promise.

“Bloom Where You Are Planted” –

by janelhaswings | Sep 19, 2022 | Uncategorized

Until It Is Time to Find a Bigger Pot.

I recently met someone who reminds me a lot of myself in certain ways and yet we are different in others. However, we have one huge thing in common. We know we’re not happy living where we are currently living. He lives in Portugal and I live in the U.S. two places that most people would love to live in here we are living in each respective country because we have to, not because we truly want to.

We were both discussing how we have this deeper knowing that we weren’t meant to be where we are currently. After multiple discussions about where we would each rather be, I started to reflect on my decisions and life circumstances that led me back to Louisville, Kentucky, a place that I said I would never return to.

When I officially left Louisville to move to Panamá and “begin my life” I said I was never coming back to live, only to visit. Then my dad died and my plans flew out of the window. There is a saying in Spanish, “Si quieres verle sonreír a Dios, cuentale tus planes.” Which translates to, “If you want to see God smile, tell him/her your plans.”

I feel like the last three years of my life have been a true testament to that saying. My plans before my dad died were to move to Panamá, get established, become successful, build a home, and live happily next to the water. Flash forward and the closest body of water near me is the most polluted river in the United States. As appealing as that may sound (inserts sarcasm), it’s definitely not where I imagined I’d be right now in this moment. Part of me hates that I’m here and the other part of me truly believes that everything happens for a reason.

I decided to move back home when my dad died for a temporary six-month stint. I was going to come back, and grieve his death surrounded by family and friends who knew him and others who knew just me but understood the relationship he and I had and the impact that his death had upon me. I thought, “If I’m going to heal, I need to do it surrounded by people that I don’t have the explain the depth and complexity of our relationship to.” I also thought, plus, I’ll make money waiting tables and bartending, save up and go back to Panamá with some extra money and start focusing on starting my own business. Again, God/The Universe/Higher Power/Whatever you believe in is laughing their ass off right now because three years have passed and yet here I am.

For the longest time I’ve felt stuck and yet I know that I am not stuck.

The reason why I say that I am not stuck is that I’ve felt stuck before. I used to work a corporate job that I absolutely hated. The money was great, but I was miserable. I was treated like trash because I was an intelligent woman with an opinion who wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. Unsurprisingly, those are the exact characteristics that the majority of corporate America hates. I felt stuck because the money was great and everyone told me how lucky I was to earn so much and to have a great job. The doubts and insecurities of not being able to find a job and finding a job but making less of an income are what kept me sitting at a desk being miserable five days a week. I knew it wasn’t the place for me but because I was making an above-average income, I ignored the voice inside me that kept saying, “Get the hell out of here.”

I knew eventually the day would come that I had enough and I would just walk away. Apart from being treated horribly, the company started to do things that went completely against my morals. I didn’t know exactly when, but I knew eventually it would happen because one thing about me is that when my soul feels like I’m not listening to my intuition, something drastic will happen and I will be forced to listen. Knowing that eventually that day would come and I would need some encouragement to finally leave, I wrote a quote on an index card and put it in front of my computer so I was forced to read it every day.

“If you don’t like where you are, move! You are not a tree!” – Jim Rohn

The day finally came when life said, if you’re refusing to leave, we will have to shake things up a bit. That day was mysteriously the day right before I was going on vacation back to Panamá. A place that had already won my heart previously. I didn’t quit but I decided, I’m going on vacation and when I get back I’ll decide whether I stay here or I leave.

While sitting on a boat in the middle of some of the bluest water in Panamá, I looked over at my mom who was with me and I said, “I’m quitting my job and I’m moving to Panamá.” My mom being old enough and wise enough to pick her battles, knew this wasn’t one she would win. She knew that it didn’t matter if she was against the idea, my strong will was going to do whatever my mind decided, her only response was, “OK.” We returned to the U.S. Sunday evening and I was set to return to the shitty job that I hated at 8 a.m. the next day. I woke up and instead of preparing to go to work, I sat at my computer and wrote my resignation letter. The company I worked for would accept two weeks’ notice but because we had access to private information they would remove you from the building immediately. I didn’t give them the pleasure. I typed the resignation and hit send at exactly 8 a.m. and never looked back.

I look back on that moment in my life and I realize that the entire time that I felt stuck, I never was. What made me feel stuck was the security. The knowing that every two weeks I would have a paycheck and I would be able to afford the expensive things that I enjoy such as travel.

I’m currently looking at my life now and I realize that I’m not stuck, I’m secure. I am stable and secure. I have the stability of knowing that I’ll be paid every two weeks enough to allow me to survive another two weeks and I have the security that my family is here.

And yet – I still do not want to be here.

This brings me back to how this whole thing started. While my friend and I were complaining about our current situations and the circumstances that prevent us from living where we truly want to be, (him in the U.S. and me in Panamá) we also both discussed just how absolutely lucky we are. Most people in third-world countries are dying to make it out. They either want to head to Europe or the U.S. to live the “American dream” and yet we’re sitting here expressing how miserable we are while living what others can only dream of.

From the outside, it looks like two privileged people whining about how bad they have it when in reality, they’ve got it pretty good. The truth is, yes, it is somewhat ridiculous but it is also valid. Both of our souls know what they want, life and circumstances are just standing in our way. It takes looking at your own life from a different perspective to realize that even though we aren’t where we want to be at this moment, we are where we are meant to be in this moment. What the conversations that he and I have shared lately have taught me, apart from there are people who feel exactly the same way that I do, is that I will no longer use the words, “I’m stuck.”

I’m not stuck.

I’m stable, I’m secure and I’m surviving. Stability and security are essential parts of life that not everyone can say they have. I understand that I am lucky to have them.

I also know that eventually life will come and force me to jump without the parachute again. And in that free fall, I will trust my intuition and my instincts yet again. I will expand my wings yet again. The push from the Universe will happen, when it will happen is the unknown.

All I know is that Panamá will be what breaks my fall.

I found this coral heart on the shores of an island in Panamá. An instant reminder that “home is where the heart is.”

P.S. This post is dedicated to João. Life determined that our paths were meant to cross. I’m glad that they intersected. We both needed to hear that we are not alone in our pursuit of the place we call “home.” I’m confident that our paths will reunite again either in Portugal, the U.S., or Panamá. Obrigada pelo nosso tempo juntos, tua companhia e nossas conversas. Besos y ya sabes que cuando quieras regresar a Panamá y conocer más la otra parte de tus raíces, ya tienes una guía. – Tu amiga Janel

Dedicating Time to My Passions

by janelhaswings | Sep 12, 2022 | Life Experiences, Uncategorized

Part of this journey of finding the pieces of me that I feel have been missing or hiding lately is rediscovering my passions. You would think that’s an easy task. You just go out and do the things that you like. The crazy thing about life is that if you don’t prioritize time to do the things that you enjoy and before you know it has been months since you’ve actually done them. For example, all of 2021 I can’t tell you a single time that I did something for myself that I truly enjoyed.

An entire year without going hiking every weekend, spending time in nature, photography, and dancing. You can add writing to that list too since my only blog post last year was when my cousin Ethan died. I was so career-focused and concentrated on advancing my career that I forgot to actually enjoy living in the meantime. It’s crazy to sit and think wow – all I did was work and study and go to the gym but that was my life for a solid year and it carried into the beginning of 2022 too. I think focusing on my career would put me in a better position and now that I’ve accomplished what I set out to do, my life really hasn’t changed much because of it. Do I regret focusing on my career? No. Do I regret not making time to enjoy life while focusing on my career? Definitely. That’s why I decided that for the rest of this year I’m focusing on myself.

This brings me back to my passions. Rediscovering your passions is like dating. Except there is no one sitting across from you at the table. It’s just you and whatever you like to do. Rediscovering each other one day at a time. It’s a simple act of saying, “Today I’m going to take my camera out and take pictures. Of what? No idea. But I’m going to do it anyway.” Dedicating an hour of your time to just being present. We get so wrapped up in routines and simply surviving the day that we forget that we’re here to do one thing and one thing only – to live.

As we age, our passions change as well. If you would’ve asked me in my twenties what it is that I enjoyed the most my answer would’ve been partying, drinking tequila straight from the bottle (still a fan of tequila), and eating any and everything. My body and my brain are both grateful that we’ve passed that mess of a stage. Now, if you ask me what my passions are they are anything that makes me feel present and grateful for the beauty in my surroundings and just life in general.

If you happen to have an online dating profile you know the generic question for your passions is “What are your interests?” and we all just fill in the blanks with simple things that make us seem cool to others. Hiking strangely seems to be the most popular, but I don’t see half of the people I know out on the trails so it makes me wonder. Are we saying that we like things just because we think they’re cool or is it because we actually do love them?

Our passions should be the last thing that we lie about and yet it tends to be that we either over exaggerate how much we care about something to make us “fit in” or act unenthused about something that might make us seem less “cool.” I’m at the point in my life where I know I’m weird and I embrace the things about me that make me different. If we were all the same the world would be boring as Hell.

For example, one of my weird passions is blowing bubbles. Hand me a bubble wand and some soap and water and it’s over. Cheap entertainment for hours. I will even admit that my personal birthday gift to myself this year was a bubble bazooka that lights up. The best $35 that I’ve ever spent on Amazon. There’s something about blowing bubbles that takes me back to my childhood where I was carefree and life was rent-free – the glory days.

Obviously, I’m not just dedicating my time to playing with bubbles, I’m adding time into my busy schedule to go for a walk in my favorite local park. Going to art events like the immersive Van Gogh experience that was recently in my city and even throwing in a few concerts here and there. The point is after so long, I feel like I’m finally starting to find those sparks of joy that I’ve been so desperately searching for. If you have felt similar to me as if a piece of you has been missing, I suggest taking 30 minutes of your day to do just one thing that brings you joy and puts a smile not only on your face but on your soul too.

P.S. If you need me, I’ll be over in the corner playing with my fancy bubble gun.

Riding the Waves of Life and Finding the Flow

by janelhaswings | Aug 29, 2022 | Life Experiences, Uncategorized

Before me making my first blog post this year I kept hearing this calling to write but I refused to listen to that voice in my head that kept saying, “Write again. You need to write again.” The words kept whispering in my mind for months until I finally sat down and opened a blank word document and let my fingers start flowing to the background music.

The day prior, I had gone to a spiritual event and saw a medium who said that my cousin had a message for me. His message was to start writing again. I burst into tears because no one could possibly know that I had been thinking of writing again. My cousin said that I hold my emotions in and writing would help me to process and release them. It was the missing piece that I was searching for. He knew that it was the push that I needed from the Universe to finally start listening to that whisper.

Since I can remember my form of expressing my emotions has always been writing. When I was little my grandmother used to tell me that I was born to be a writer. I would write poems and short stories and she would tell me how great of a writer I was. It was how I knew to use my imagination. I can’t draw or paint to save my life so the only way to translate the things that I saw in my mind was by writing them down. I can’t remember exactly when I quit writing, but I remember feeling like writing was no longer fun. It was a task. I think after so many essays and research papers and writing with a purpose and not just for the fun of it, I was burned out. What I didn’t know is that abandoning that part of me also meant abandoning my emotions.

I can’t help but think that by starting to write again, I opened the floodgates for an emotional tsunami to take place. Here I was, drowning in emotions, wailing my arms above the tidal waves of life that kept crashing over me and hoping someone would pull me out or at least that my feet would find sand below and bury themselves into the ocean floor.

The emotional tsunami was a mix of events that have happened this year and have happened over the past few years that made me realize just how much I miss certain people and places. I also miss the rush of discovering new destinations and cultures. Somehow the person who craves adventure, mystery, and exciting experiences have reluctantly settled for the comfort of the known and I’m disappointed in myself.

How did I end up here? Why am I allowing myself to remain here? These are questions that I’ve been ruminating over. I still do not have the answers, but I do know that the life that I crave and the life that I was meant to live is not one of conformity. I’ve never been known to settle so why do it now? I need to start writing again to realize that I want and deserve so much more than what I’m living for right now.

In a previous post, I told you that I invited you along for the ride to rediscover and find my missing piece. This is part of it. Riding the tidal waves of emotions and questioning everything. We all want to know why we’re here. The almighty question of “What is my purpose?” Maybe we don’t have a purpose and maybe we do. Maybe mine is to write my journey through struggles and success. Maybe not. Who knows?

All I know is that if I’m going to be riding tidal waves of emotions, I might as well be surrounded by palm trees, and coconuts, and riding actual ocean waves. This means sooner, rather than later, I’ll be returning to the tropics and in a way returning to myself.

Until then, I’ll be envisioning myself near a massive body of water (that isn’t the Ohio River) and soaking in the sun while I sit on my bedroom floor and try to meditate.

P.S. This picture was taken during my first (and only) surf lesson ever. I was so excited because learning how to surf is something that I’ve wanted to do for years. I was stung by a sting ray shortly after this photo was taken. If that day isn’t the perfect analogy for life, I don’t know what is.

When Life Humbles You Twice in the Same Day

by janelhaswings | Jul 18, 2022 | Life Experiences, Uncategorized

This past Thursday I woke up in one of the worst moods. It was a super full moon and my mom always says full moons affect our sleep. Well, this one truly unleashed my insomnia. When I finally fell asleep, the next thing I knew it was time to get up and start my day. I woke up so exhausted that the only thing I want to do was sleep for 48 hours straight but we don’t get paid for sleeping so I had no option other than to get out of bed.

After waking up knowing my day was not off to the greatest start, my sister’s dog that I’m currently dog sitting decided it was time to be a total jerk. I struggled with her on our morning walk and was extremely annoyed that she was acting out. Then I get into the house and my sister’s bougie coffee machine wouldn’t work. Lack of sleep, a super full moon, general fatigue, and my body being decaffeinated made my mood go from bad to foul.

I leave the house and head to work annoyed and pissed off at the world. As Monica would sing, “It’s just one of them days, don’t take it personal.” Anyways, I get to work and decide to recap my horrible morning to my boss when we go to lunch together. While I’m talking about how awful my morning is, I’m also realizing how ridiculous I sound but I’m exhausted and just want to talk about how horrible my day is.

That’s when the Universe decided to humble my overly privileged ass.

We finish lunch and walk out into the restaurant parking lot. I look over and notice a middle-aged homeless man digging through a trash can in the alley. The man was digging through the garbage as if his life depended on it. I didn’t immediately say anything to my boss because I didn’t want the man to hear me. Once we got in my car I told my boss that seeing the man dig through the trash was bothering me and I didn’t know what to do to help. He immediately says, “Hey! I can give him my leftovers.” My boss had a ton of leftover fried rice and then I said, “I think I have $5 let me check and you can give it to him.” With a carry-out box and $5 in his hand, my boss walks over and hands the man the food and money.

While my boss is walking back to my car he doesn’t notice, but I see the man open the box and take a massive bite out of the food. This poor soul was legitimately starving to death. I felt awful. Here I am a few minutes prior complaining over how awful my day is because of a stupid coffee machine and my dog niece acting like a jerk. I felt like a horrible person. To make matters even worse, my boss says, “Tell me again about how you’re having a bad day.”

I started to reflect and think about how I was complaining over something so pointless and minimal. I also started to think that I was turning into the same people that I cannot stand.

When I first moved back to the U.S. one of the things that I noticed is how much people complain over stupid shit and how rude they are towards people. The first year I was back I was so highly annoyed by the number of times I saw someone mistreat someone simply because they weren’t getting their way. The U.S. is the land of the extremely overprivileged and the “you must do what I say because I say” group of people in the world. Entitled is the overstatement of the century. And here I am, becoming what I detest the most.

I had to check myself because I refuse to become ungrateful.

My day continued on and my mood changed for the better. I couldn’t believe how ridiculous I had behaved in the morning and I was grateful for life reminding me that, “Things could always be worse.” I started to think of the things that I’m grateful for in my head and remind myself just how fortunate I truly am. I thought that what happened that afternoon would be the most impactful event of my day.

Then life had other plans.

That evening I decided to stop by Walgreens and pick something up on my way home. While I’m searching for what I wanted to buy, I overhear a Walgreens employee say, “The machine is in English and I don’t speak your langue so I won’t be able to help you.”

My first instinct is to try to help. I speak 4 languages so I think to myself that maybe I speak this person’s language. I walk over and ask the lady, “Where are you from? Maybe I speak your language.” She tells me that she’s from Afghanistan.

I don’t speak Farsi but I still wanted to help her. I asked her what she is trying to do. In broken English, she explained to me that her daughter lives in Russia and she needs to send her money via Western Union. The Walgreens employee is standing there and she tells me that the Western Union machine doesn’t work after 9 p.m. and it was 9:01 p.m.

So I thought, ok. How can I help this woman? I told her I was going to write down the information in English on a piece of paper so that when she went to Walgreens the next day she can show them the information and they can help her send her daughter money.

Thank God for Google Translate because between that, her broken English, and my non-existent Farsi, we got it all written down.

She explains to me that she doesn’t have a car and she had walked to Walmart, Kroger, and now Walgreens to try and send her daughter money and wasn’t able to. I offer to drive her home so she doesn’t have to walk alone in the dark.

While driving her home I ask her how long she’s been in the U.S. and she tells me she has been here for 10 years and 4 months. She said she has no family and no friends here. She says to me that her whole family was killed in Afghanistan by terrorists who bombed her home. She lost her parents, siblings, husband and two year old daughter. The only reason why she is alive is because her and her other daughter were in the hospital together at the time of the bombing. When they returned home they couldn’t recognize any of their family members in the rubble of the bombing.

I’m driving and trying my hardest to hold back tears.

She also has kidney problems and if they get worst she will not be able to travel and she’s crying telling me she may never be able to see her daughter and grandchildren again in Russia if she has to go on dialysis.

My heart literally broke.

She is crying telling me her story and I’m just devastated for her. I told her I’m going to pray for her and she will see her daughter again. I just know it.

We get to her house and she tells me to come in and she will make me tea or give me juice and she keeps thanking me for helping her. I politely tell her not to worry about it and that she doesn’t need to thank me for anything.

She looks at me and says, “You are an angel from God.” (Clearly, she doesn’t know me.) And she asks to kiss my hand. I didn’t want her to feel like she needed to kiss my hand but I also understand cultural norms and I told her that if she felt like she needed to kiss my hand she could. She kisses my hand and says “thank you!”

I give her my name and phone number and tell her to call or message me on WhatsApp if she has any problems trying to send her daughter money and I will try to help her the best way that I can.

After I drop my new friend off, I drive home and think to myself, if that were my mom in another country where she wasn’t fluent in the language, I hope someone would help her.

I get home and start to process the conversation and the day that I’ve had. Then I think.

How fucking lucky am I?

I’ve not lost my entire family to a bombing. I am healthy. I have food to eat. I don’t have to dig through the trash. I don’t have to worry about being healthy and able to travel to see my loved ones.

I am beyond blessed.

I share this story to show how we are all guilty of taking life and what we have for granted. We are all struggling in different ways, some way more than others, but we can always take a look around and be grateful for the things that we do have. As much as I try to practice gratitude and be mindful, there are still days when I forget just how lucky I am.

I also share this story as a reminder to be kind and empathetic towards others. It cost me absolutely nothing to help this woman. It also cost me nothing to help the homeless man. I know some would argue that it did because I gave him $5 but $5 to me isn’t anything in the grand scheme of things.

Kindness and empathy cost nothing and they typically provide you with the greatest reward of all; the reward of knowing that you did the right thing.

The next day I spoke with my new friend and asked her to let me know if she is able to send her daughter money and if she needed my help I would help her. I’ve added a screenshot of our conversation. Her sweet words mean the world to me and are proof that people doing the right thing is always the right thing.

P.S. My new friend’s name means Star in Farsi and I think she

Where in the World Is Janel?

by janelhaswings | Jul 11, 2022 | Uncategorized

Maybe lately you’ve been thinking, “Where in the world is Janel?” She doesn’t post anything anymore, she doesn’t tell crazy stories on Instagram anymore, and she hasn’t posted a selfie in ages. She’s disappeared. Honestly, I’ve been thinking the same.

Where in the hell am I?

I haven’t felt like myself for months. I tried to search for myself in old photos, with walks through the park, and through periods of solitude and the truth is I’m not sure where I’ve gone. I know it may seem weird that I’m talking about myself like this but the truth is, I don’t feel like me and no matter how hard I try I still can’t locate myself. Writing this is my attempt to find myself and reconnect to the person who thrives off of passion, adventure, travel, and an unquenchable thirst for life.

First, let’s review start where the shit hit the fan. In October of 2021, my family received news about one of our family members’ health. It wasn’t fatal but it was a shock. It was also the first domino to fall. Next came my cousin Ethan’s suicide. After that, it seemed like life just kept unraveling in front of my eyes. 2022 has felt like one smack to the face after another. I’ve felt like my life was a colossal dumpster fire and that no matter how many times I would try to take a step forward, life would push me ten back.

2022 started off with me catching COVID at New Year for the first time since the pandemic started. Not to be outdone, the flu and strep throat thought it was time to make a visit as well and then tendonitis in my foot decided to enter the chat. The emotional mess was less disappointing than the physical ailments. My physical health is the one thing that for a while I felt I had control over and then 2022 came in and said, “Control, what control?” My body forced me to rest. The one thing I detest more than anything is not being able to be on the go.

For a while, the only thing I wanted was life to be uneventful.

Finally, that time has come.

Life has been pretty uneventful for the past two months and I’ve felt like I’m in recovery. Recovering from the emotional upheaval and the physical hell that I’ve endured since the beginning of the year.

2020 forced me to stay still, 2021 made me remain on pause, and in 2022 all I wanted to be was on the go.

Being the forever realist/optimist that I am, I have to admit that it hasn’t all been bad. I passed some of the hardest exams that I’ve ever taken and made advancements in my career but with everything else being on fire around me, I didn’t even celebrate my wins. I felt like they were small on the scale of things.

Most people think I’m being ungrateful for my successes but that’s not the case. I’ve always held myself to the highest standard. My parents expected the best from me and I expected nothing less than excellence. My mom has always said, “You put so much pressure on yourself when you don’t have to.” And my response to her has always been, “If I don’t, then who will?”

That inner desire to constantly prove myself not only to others but to myself, more than anyone else, has been the fuel to the fire that lives inside of me. I remember years ago a friend of mine told me that the thing that she admired most about me is that when I set a goal and say I’m going to do something, I always do it. Sooner or later it was accomplished. She said, “You always accomplish your dreams. Every single thing you’ve told me that you’ve dreamt of doing, you’ve done it. Then you start chasing the next dream.”

Lately, I’ve felt like I don’t have dreams or goals. For an ambitious person to say that last sentence – it’s soul-crushing. But here’s the thing, my soul has felt crushed. The me who always sits down and writes a list of the top 10 places she wants to see and the top 10 things she wants to do by x date has been missing and the truth is – I miss her. I want that part of me back so badly.

Part of why I’m even writing this right now is because writing has always been what has led me back to myself and my truth. When I was in the biggest, deepest, darkest depression after my stepdad died, what forced me to return to myself was writing. I started this blog months after my dad died because I needed to find myself. The optimist, crazy, and life-loving person that I typically am. I knew she was still here but I had to put in the work to find her.

So here I am, yet again, writing in order to find my missing piece. Of course, I’m sharing it with the world but I’m writing this for me. It’s me pleading for my soul and my essence to return home.

Let’s just say this post is my “MISSING – HAVE YOU SEEN HER?” ad except I don’t have a cute puppy face to attach to it.

Therefore, I’ve decided that I’m going to start writing again and share it with the world. It will be personal stories, adventures, travels, and events. I know people follow me for travel tips and stories about my journeys across the globe and I still plan to include these types of pieces but for now, my writing is going to be about a different journey. The journey back to me.

You’re all invited to come along for the ride if you like.

Janel

P.S. This first piece is dedicated to my cousin, Ethan. Thank you for the push from above. <3

« Older Entries

Janel Has Wings

Sharing all things local and international travel