Peaks and Valleys: The emotional side of a WHV (Working Holiday Visa)

Somewhere between the beaches, the new friends, and the life I’ve been building here, I started to feel a mix of gratitude and uncertainty I didn’t expect.

I know it’s been a while since I last posted, and I feel a bit bad about that. The blog has always been my outlet, a place where I can capture everything; the big moments, the small ones, and everything in between. So disappearing from it feels strange, especially because so much has been happening.

But I think that’s exactly why I stopped writing for a bit. I’ve been busy living it instead.

I’m now eight months into my time in Australia, and my current chapter in Noosa is coming to an end in a few weeks. That means moving on again; leaving behind the friends I’ve made here, the routines I’ve built, and the small roots that had just started to feel like they were growing.

Next up is completing my 88 days of regional work, which opens a whole new set of unknowns.

And I think that’s where my head has been lately, the unknown.

This is the longest I’ve ever been away from home. And in some ways, it feels like time has flown. In other ways, it feels like I’ve lived multiple lifetimes already. There are days where everything feels fast and exciting, and others where it feels long and heavy in a way that’s hard to explain.

Work has been great. I’ve grown so much more than I expected to; in confidence, independence, and just figuring things out as I go. Acquaintances have turned into friends, and some of those friends feel like they’ll stay for life. I’ve started building something here. And just as it starts to feel comfortable… it’s time to move again.

That’s the part about long-term travel no one really prepares you for.

Once you start, nothing stays the same for long.

I’ve seen people say online that when you travel and meet new people, you start leaving pieces of yourself in different places, and I didn’t fully believe that at first. But I think I understand it a little more now. It really does feel like parts of you get scattered across the world.

And in a few weeks, I’ll be leaving another place that has genuinely changed my life. (That sounds dramatic, I know, I’ve touched grass, I promise, but it’s true.)

What makes it harder is the emotional contradiction of it all. You can be living something you once dreamed of, surrounded by good food, friends, beaches, and new experiences… and still feel homesick. Still feel unsure. Still miss home.

You long for familiarity. For routine. For people who know you in a different version of your life. And then guilt sneaks in, because you’re aware of how lucky you are to even be here in the first place.

But both things can exist at the same time.

Sometimes you just need to call your mom and cry a little and “hug her through the phone” (which sounds weird, but honestly helps more than anything). Sometimes you miss your friends at home so much it physically hits you, because they are such a huge part of your life, even when you’re not there for all of it.

And that’s okay.

We are only human. And as someone once said: “How nice is it to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

Being far from home and not knowing your next move is stressful. And there’s a part of me that tries to brush it off; like “touch some grass, you’re in paradise, relax”, but the truth is; it is scary, it is stressful, and that makes me sad. It is overwhelming. And it does make me miss home. My dogs. My best friends. The familiar version of my life.

But when I step back, I also see that all of this is part of the journey I chose. The peaks and the valleys.

And right now, I feel like I’m somewhere in between.

I think the overwhelming array of options is what gets me. Do my 88 days; be an oyster farmer, live on an island in the north, live on an island in the south, go out to the outback and live on a farm, pick fruit, work on a sailboat, work at a top 10 golf course in the world, the options are endless.

Don’t do my 88 days, move to a city of my choosing, Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, Adelaide, or wherever the hell I want; find a job, finish my year in Australia, head home, and start planning the next big adventure.

But there is a big loud voice in my head always saying: don’t give up the opportunity because you’re in a “valley.” Keep your head high because this truly is what you dreamed of. And I want to prove to myself that I can do this, so future me can look back and think, wow, I really did that, what a life.

To finish, whether you are travelling or not, life really is just an endless dodgeball game of peaks and valleys. And if you are at a peak, enjoy the view, take it all in. If you are in a valley, you truly aren’t alone. Talk to your friends (new or old), write in your journal, start a blog and put it all out there (lol), call your mom. Express whatever you are feeling, make it into smaller pieces, and go from there. You are only human. 

For now, I’m choosing to believe that all of it; the doubt, the joy, the smiles, the tears and everything in between, is exactly where I’m supposed to be. At the end of the day, I’m living the life I used to dream about.