I Blame My Father…But, I Can’t Or Won’t Shake It
As I continue to explore my 52-week journey to recovering from a midlife crisis, I’m talking about travel this week. I think it’s the winter weather that has me considering traveling. Just kidding! I think about traveling every day all day. But, why? And, the bigger question is will traveling help you during a midlife crisis?
I’ve often wondered how, when, or where I caught the ‘Travel Bug‘? Then it occurred to me! It was when I crossed the Florida Georgia line in the summer of 1980-something.
The road calls my name daily. I woke up this morning with a plan to grab my geriatric corgi, Bear, hook up the camper and head out. Destination? Unknown. I want to escape the winter blues, big decisions that need to be made but I keep putting off, and the big decisions that have been made but are now like weights pulling me down as I get to the task of doing them.
Catching The Travel Bug And Not Letting Go
My dad was gone a lot when I was a kid. He missed softball and volleyball games, 8th-grade graduation, and many fights with my siblings. He was on the road delivering blueberries, watermelons, trees, plants, and more to the Midwest. So goes the life of an owner-operator truck driver. My dad LOVES to just go, anywhere and anytime. When he is not delivering a load, he’s driving somewhere for something. To sit idle is not in his nature, nor mine.
Unfortunately, being gone coupled with not having much money, we didn’t go on vacation as a family. A friend of mine’s family went on vacation to Florida every winter. Every. Single. Winter. She would tell me all about it before going and then catch me up on all the things that happened when she returned. I stayed an emerald green color all winter break. Eventually, the envy lasted longer than winter break, it hung around for years.
Florida Georgia Line: Welcome To The Sunshine State
Finally, after much complaining, begging, crying, and fit throwing. My father reluctantly took my brother and me on a “Lady Family vacation”. Which translated to a summer road trip in a long-haul semi with no air conditioning to Florida in the 1980s. I remember my dad yelling for us to wake up as we were about to cross the Florida Georgia line. In the dead of night on I-75, the highway lights lit up the palm tree adorned Welcome To Florida sign.
I’m not sure I have any other way to describe it other than to say it….was…..magical. We spent the next day exploring a tomato factory by going places kids did not belong, visiting an alligator sanctuary, and being yelled at for running around like “morons and heathens” before making the long drive back. It’s my only memory of a vacation from my childhood. However, the feeling of excitement as we crossed the state line never left. The travel bug became part of my DNA.
Passing On The Travel Bug
Though I had the travel bug, I didn’t get to feed the beast. Frankly, my husband and I were poor, young, and dumb when we got married and had our first child. Now, that I’m typing this, we were still young and dumb but, a little less poor when we delivered our second child. Anyway, I took a new vow the day I delivered my son, Hunter, (literally, as I held him for the first time) I said to my husband, Michael,
“Beg, steal, or borrow our kid will go on vacation every year and he will go to college. So help me God.”
Lauralee 5 minutes after giving birth
Not only did he go to college and go on vacation each summer, he too, loves exploring new cultures, chatting up the cabby or Uber driver, getting lost in huge cities, and spending endless hours in airports.
Now, I realize it’s more than a vacation, it’s an escape. It’s a way to get away from the mundane of daily life. I really believe it’s our daily routines that make life rush by. It’s the routine that puts us in our graves. Get up, shower, brush our teeth, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, make dinner, do dishes, watch that black box of endless chatter and useless information, then go to bed. Day after day. I am not cut out for the daily grind of an ordinary predictable schedule. So, what did I do? I took a traveling corporate job.
Life As A Working Road Warrior Takes a Toll
I spent over 10 years on the road, avoiding the mundane daily life, always looking for that Florida Georgia line rush. So, I get my dad, I want to be on the road too. I want mile markers behind me and the horizon of state line signs in front of me. The REAL strength is my mom and Michael. While my dad and I were road warriors for so many years, my mom broke up fights between me, my brother, Josh, and my sister, Amy. Michael and my mom broke up the fights between my own kids, Hunter, Hayley, and Zach. They went to practice, events, and shows. They were there doing the hard work. The mundane work. The daily life. I finally righted the parenting ship and came home to attend the games, coach the games, watch the shows, make dinner, break up fights, and do the mundane. The daily life. I do not regret making the decision to come off the road.
Feeding The Beast, The Travel Bug Must Be Fed
However, the kids are grown and gone. I’ve been grounded too long. Doing the daily routine too long. I’m not Michael or Mom. I’m not that strong. I am my dad. I like road maps, wrong turns, and mile markers. The travel bug is itching right under my skin, and the road is calling my name. I need to see those state welcome signs, border crossing agents, and airline flight attendants.
Sadly, owning a business, working, or other commitments could keep our inner travel beast (aka bug) hungry. So, how do we balance traveling and life? It’s easy to feel like we are being left on the sidelines as influencers on Instagram or friends on Facebook look like they are living their best lives. For me, I’ve pushed myself to consider day excursions and weekend road trips as travel too while I plan and prepare for other longer and more expensive trips.
I believe traveling can help me navigate my midlife crisis. It will give me time away to process where I want to go in life and why.
Feeding Your Beast
Instead of worrying about hiking in fantastically awesome locations, choose to hike each weekend in the neighboring states and communities. Stop comparing your travel to other’s people’s travel. You’re travels are awesome and you don’t need to validate by comparing yourself to others. Stop worrying about getting Instagram’s perfect pictures. Your pictures are for you and if they make you happy then they are perfect.
You can feed your inner travel beast with smaller more frequent trips within 150 miles or so in every direction. There are literally thousands of small towns that would love to see you exploring their downtown, small shops, and outdoor amenities.
When, how, or where did you catch the travel bug? Drop me a comment!
For 52 weeks I will give care about a specific aspect of my life. I hope you will follow along in my journey.
About The Author
Lauralee Hites is a full-time management consultant who owns Stratavize Consulting Inc. a boutique consulting firm. She’s a part-time writer and blogger. When Lauralee is not speaking or working with clients, she is traveling, writing, or kayaking with her dog, Bear.
Disclaimer: This article does not contain sponsored or affiliate links. I receive no compensation from this article.
Recent Comments