Am I Running Away?
Is travel really an escape from reality?
What Sparked the Question
I never really thought that I was running away. I always just saw travel as travel. I knew that I learned a lot about myself when I traveled, but I never considered it an escape— until this past year.
I had felt lost for a long time, so I started reading self-help books to reflect on my past and hopefully find some direction. That’s when I came across a passage about how people who seek ‘fresh starts’ are often just running away. That running can be a trauma response— a way to avoid confronting the problems in our lives.
That made me pause.
I realized that I was always chasing fresh starts—new places, new trips, new beginnings. And it made me ask myself, Am I running away?
What I'm Running From
That question stayed with me and the more I thought about it, the more I realize I was running. I was running away from myself, from the mistakes I made in the past, from trauma that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
For years, my family and friends told me I needed therapy. But I always had an excuse: I was traveling, I had a trip planned, now wasn’t a good time. So I kept moving instead of confronting my past. I’d go somewhere new, meet people who didn’t know who I was, and build a new version of myself—over and over again.
Looking back, there have been three times that I have left for an extended period, and each one followed a moment of pain I didn’t want to confront.
In January 2023, I left to study abroad in Spain after making a mistake that had cost me most of my friends. I felt alone, ashamed, and like a terrible person. So I left. I built a new life in Madrid, with new friends who didn’t judge me.
In January 2024, I left for Southeast Asia after burning out at a job that I once loved but had come to hate.
And in May 2025, I flew to Australia, after cutting my step-mother permanently out of my life.
So yes—at first, I was running away from pain. But the more I reflected, the more I questioned whether “running away” was really the right term.
If you want to hear more about why I started traveling in the first place, check out this post.
In January 2023, I left to study abroad in Spain after making a mistake that had cost me most of my friends. I felt alone, ashamed, and like a terrible person. So I left. I built a new life in Madrid, with new friends who didn’t judge me.
In January 2024, I left for Southeast Asia after burning out at a job that I once loved but had come to hate.
And in May 2025, I flew to Australia, after cutting my step-mother permanently out of my life.
So yes—at first, I was running away from pain. But the more I reflected, the more I questioned whether “running away” was really the right term.
Running vs. Self-Preservation
“Running away” has such a negative connotation. But sometimes, what we might consider “running away” is really just self-preservation.
It’s not easy to face your past or your pain, especially when you’re still in the middle of it. Sometimes, putting space between yourself and the situation is the only way to begin healing.
Travel gave me that space. It felt like a make-believe world where my past didn’t exist. And sometimes, distance was the first step towards clarity.
There are situations—family tension, toxic friendships, soul-draining jobs—where staying doesn’t help. If you’ve tried to fix things and nothing changes, maybe leaving is the healthier choice. Maybe it’s okay to take a break from your life.
Travel gave me that space. It felt like a make-believe world where my past didn’t exist. And sometimes, distance was the first step towards clarity.
There are situations—family tension, toxic friendships, soul-draining jobs—where staying doesn’t help. If you’ve tried to fix things and nothing changes, maybe leaving is the healthier choice. Maybe it’s okay to take a break from your life.
As Brianna Wiest writes in The Mountain is You:
“Your new life is going to cost you your old one. It’s going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense of direction. It’s going to cost you relationships and friends. It’s going to cost you being liked and understood.”
Fear, Anxiety & Uncertainty
Even though I’ve escaped my past life and am working towards something better through travel, my life is far from perfect. Fear, anxiety, and uncertainty still follow me —especially since deciding not to attend medical school.
I was afraid of wasting time chasing a path I didn’t want. Afraid I had made a mistake in the wrong decision. Afraid I’d never reach my goals.
I envied my friends who seemed to have everything figured out. They had plans, stability, and direction—while I only had questions. Ironically they often told me they envied my freedom and life of travel.
It made me realize: no one has the perfect life. We all have to make sacrifices. They gave up adventure for stability and I gave up stability to chase a dream.
So I stopped comparing. I still don’t know exactly what I want, but I know what I don’t want: a desk job that dulls me, a life behind a bar, or regrets I can’t undo.
So I chose to travel. Even if I never find exactly where I’m going, I know I will never regret going out and discovering the world —or myself— along the way.
Maybe my journey started as an escape. But over time, it became something more. I wasn’t just running away—I was running toward something new.
What I'm Running Toward
I started running toward a life I actually want —and a version of myself that I love.
When I reflected on the life I used to chase—medical school, becoming a surgeon, a comfortable life in the United States —I realized I was miserable. That wasn’t the life I wanted.
For some time, I walked cautiously, too afraid to go too far in one direction and regret it later. But I’ve realized I won’t get anywhere that way.
I took some time to reflect and it became clear: if travel is the one thing that I never regret, then maybe the right path is the one that allows me to make it a part of my life—maybe even my career.
Now I’m running full force toward the future I’ve started to imagine.
I started running toward a life I actually want —and a version of myself that I love.
When I reflected on the life I used to chase—medical school, becoming a surgeon, a comfortable life in the United States —I realized I was miserable. That wasn’t the life I wanted.
For some time, I walked cautiously, too afraid to go too far in one direction and regret it later. But I’ve realized I won’t get anywhere that way.
I took some time to reflect and it became clear: if travel is the one thing that I never regret, then maybe the right path is the one that allows me to make it a part of my life—maybe even my career.
Now I’m running full force toward the future I’ve started to imagine.
Lessons from Time, Distance, Solitude
The distance I’ve taken—from people, from places, from my old life—has taught me a lot.
Most importantly, I’ve learned that everyone makes mistakes. That we all carry things that we’re not proud of. And that part of healing is learning how to forgive—not just others, but ourselves.
Time, distance, and solitude gave me the space to reflect. To grow. To make sure I don’t keep making the same mistakes. And yes, sometimes I still do, but growth isn’t linear. It can take making the same mistake a couple times before you learn, but it’s part of the process.
Photo by Ronan Carr
We’re human— we’re not perfect. And maybe we all just need a little more forgiveness in our lives.
Maybe it wasn’t running at all — maybe I’m simply still discovering what it is that I want from life.