When I was 6 years old I wanted to be a
doctor, mostly because that was what people told me my godmother was. At 10 I wanted to be a superhero, because
that would be really cool. With 13 I wanted to be rich, that was really rich.
On my 15th birthday I wanted someone to tell me what I should be and
at 18 I just wanted to be.
If my younger self could look at me now, he
would probably be really surprised and proud. Back then I thought I would never
get a chance to travel the world, to leave my mother’s side, to savor all the
good things this world has to offer. When my grandfather died, just a few weeks
after my 18th birthday, I felt the shackle close around my ankle and
a ball and chain joining it. I felt incarcerated, chained to that place but at
the same time I never gave up dreaming about what was out there.
I focused on my career, sometimes with
careful thought, sometimes with some luck on others pushed by necessity. From
repairing dirty vacuum cleaners and greasy microwaves, to the operating room at
the hospital. The operating room, where two weeks into the job, without a droplet
of proper training I was sent to repair a device, while the surgeon calmly
opened the patient and angrily shouted at me. I think my legs only stopped shaking
the next day.
Not long after that I had my first taste of
travelling to other countries. With a decent dose of skill, armed with my not
too shabby knowledge of the English language and with a helping hand of a lack
of young people in the field, I became the first Technical manager for the
Portuguese branch of a growing international company. Due to my new job I was
sent to Prague, my first taste of foreign lands, and just like that I was
hooked.
Immediately after returning from my first business
trip, I felt an itch, an itch I could only scratch by going away again. So I
gathered two of my close friends and we planned our first trip together. The
year after a second one. But sadly I was living way above my financial possibilities,
and so like many others like me, I found myself engulfed in debt, while at the
same time still trying to live a life I hadn’t earned yet.
Until my 27th birthday, I loved
and laughed, I experienced the good my own country had to offer. I had my heart
broken several times, I broke a few hearts along the way as well. I hurt people
I loved and loved people I hated. I was proud and cocky at times but also
humble and ashamed at others. It was only in 2012 that all my living caught up
to me, and reality sucker punched me in the kidneys. When I saw my travelling
buddies go on their first trip without me, when I walked home once and saw my
mom staring at a blank T.V. because I spent the money for the bill trying to
play house somewhere, when I stared right into the disappointed eyes of my
uncle, that was when my soul got crushed under the burden of its actions, and
besides the shackle I felt the weight of my world placed firmly on my
shoulders.
I look back now and think, just how lost
and trapped I felt back then, and the only thing I want to do now is put my
hand on my former self shoulder and tell him it’s going to be o.k. It will get
worse before it gets better, but it will be o.k.
I remember feeling that everything was
trying to hold me in place, they locked the cage and left me there to be like
them, tied down, conformed with my surroundings. So I did the only thing I knew
how to do, I escaped…
I left my country behind and moved
somewhere else, where the grass was greener, and shit didn’t smell bad. However,
I soon found out that I wasn’t done learning an important life lesson, I didn’t
deserve that life yet, karma still wanted one last dance before it would let me
roam free.
And so, in the years that followed I jumped
from place to place, subjecting myself to places and jobs few people would do.
It was still an absorbing journey and I
gathered every bit of experience I could find. I marveled with the interesting people
I met, and suffered with the loneliness of not belonging anywhere.
It’s not over yet, but I can finally see a
light at the end of this tunnel and a sweet summer breeze to let me know the
road ahead is a bit more pleasant.
So, my past friend, young Joao, I just
wanted to tell you that it’s now the 30th of August of 2016, and
while I type this away, outside the window are the streets of Palermo, the
house is filled with friends I met along the way, friends from across the world
that gathered in one place. And we are
just a few days away to see two of them get married here.
So if you can hear me back there, I know it’s
hard, but trust me, it’s worth it.
Good luck.
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