A gap year is time out to travel between life stages. It is also known as a sabbatical, time off, time out and a year out, referring to a period of time (not necessarily 12 months) in which people disengage from curricular education and/or work and undertake activities such as traveling, volunteering or working abroad. –Wikipedia
I can’t do a gap year. Scratch that, I can’t afford to do a gap year–not only because of the money involved since I spent the last year in graduate school as a ‘full-time student’–but cos a year off worrying about absolutely nothing is just pure decadence, if you ask me. I could never have given up precious time to bolt off across the planet to ‘find myself’. It’s not my style, it’s not me. I’m the poster-child of a Girl-With-A-Plan. A career-woman developed during my teens, groomed to hold a ridiculously powerful position and married at 25. And I’m not even close to achieving both. So a vacation? Not a chance.
I was already at the departure gate at 7 friggin 30 in the morning. This means I was already up at 5 packing my overnight bag because part of my ticket cost is accounted for an airport hotel, and then scrambling to my feet to catch the hotel taxi to the airport, then going straight to Immigration, and well, check-out the makeup counters for this season’s haul thereafter (don’t judge. I could have been a makeup artist. Could being the operative word).
A victim of early-morning flights, that’s me. Even if I do find a flight scheduled in the afternoon, living 60 km south of Manila also means I have to endure extra legwork to battle city traffic if I want to make it on-board. Okay, not me exactly, but the driver who’s been thanklessly tasked to do so. But I really don’t know what I did wrong in this lifetime to deserve flights that are powerful enough to turn a calm and smiley person to cranky and unpleasant by the time she has to buckle her seat-belt. In coach.
Becoming an expat at 19 was never on my To-Do List. But Life has its funny way of waving its magic wand but instead of fairy dust and happily-ever-afters, it throws a curve ball right in the gut. Case in point: A week into my fresh-college-graduate-elation, injected with mad doses of idealism and enthusiasm, I already started working in a different country.
Although Laos wasn’t exactly a new territory, the professional arena was. Dealing with my expat life did require a whole rigmarole of adjustment to culture, language, attitude and professional behavior. It seemed like I have to change my entire being in a matter of days. Moreover, as a fresh-grad, I felt that I had to impress my superiors and work harder than any other to prove that I was worthy of a position and that I deserve to get ahead of my contemporaries.
For four straight years, I juggled work, graduate studies, extra-curricular projects that include blogging, hanging out with my newfound friends, traveling for projects and wishing life away. And then suddenly, as if on cue the curveball of Life sucker punches from nowhere–I fell off-balance halfway into my graduate program and found myself lost, disconcerted, flat and confused. In the First World, people might call it Quarter-life crisis? In the real world, it’s a bad case of miscalculated decisions. And uhh, ungratefulness.
I then decided to pursue my studies full-time, and hopefully, return to where I was years ago and retrace my steps. Maybe, just maybe, starting over would help me figure out where I went wrong and fix whatever it was before it’s too late.
I didn’t exactly put my career on-hold because of lack of passion and motivation. It was because I had too much of them that I forgot to establish important relationships in my life and to set realistic goals. Working straight and building my life around an abstract image of the life that I felt I wanted that time did a number on my self-esteem and the strong sense of belief that I can take on anything this world has to offer. I was very blessed to have served supportive superiors but I did go overboard on trying to grow up and get ahead just a tad too fast. I didn’t realize that doing so, I lost myself even before I knew and accepted her completely.
That’s what’s been happening ever since I started chasing dreams that didn’t really mean anything to me. They are only happy, perfect and beautiful once they’re created in my head. But they’re no visions. They are pretty impressions and interpretations of a reality that I didn’t appreciate. Of a reality I completely ignored because of my vivid and habitual act of zoning out to create a world I thought I wanted.
Until I did my gap month.
I smiled to myself reliving the past 30 days of my life starting with the night of that I earned my Master’s degree and closing it with a decision that, for once in my life, makes complete and perfect sense.