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