On Planning to Let Go
Alt title: A Neurotic Free Spirit
On my Substack profile, I describe this newsletter as “a written charcuterie board of musings, from a neurotic free spirit currently living abroad in freaking France.” And I’m going to explain why.
If you know me at all, you know I’m severely Type A (A for Ali). Spreadsheets spark joy, I live and die by my calendar, I’m a color-coding queen…you get the idea. Sometimes I wonder if I’d still be this way if I didn’t have OCD,1 and I believe the answer is yes. Just maybe with less intrusive thoughts and rigidity.
Anyway, I like to have all my ducks in a row. And I like that row to be symmetrical, with the same distance between each duck or else I’ll surely break my leg tomorrow (#ocdhumor). I’m not a fan of the unknown, and I feel best when I’m in control. There’s a reason I’m a tv producer.
As you can imagine, sometimes this is to my detriment. Being wound so tightly usually means you lose some circulation. It also means you’re often a stubborn worrywart who needs constant reminders to look up so as not to miss the good stuff - those shiny, glittery moments happening while your head is up your Type A ass (A for Ass).
We’re all a work in progress.
However, there is an exception for me here, and that’s solo travel. When I’m seeing foreign parts of the world on my own, I am just able to let go. Sure, I book my flights, accommodation, etc. (and deeply enjoy doing so, especially if/when points are involved), but I am able to allow myself to relax, feel my circulatory system working properly, exhale. I’m sure my therapist and I could unpack why this is the case, but that’s not the point.
I credit this outlier of my personality to my new life here in France. After all, without it, I wouldn’t have gone on that soul trip in 2022, where I met my ex and entertained the idea (back then merely a dream) of living abroad. That season of my life was ground zero, and the reason it all happened was because I wanted to take some time off. Being freelance, it was up to me to make that time off happen. I had just wrapped a gingerbread competition (as one does) and was craving some time to unwind. And for me, unwinding meant solo travel.
The irony of it all is that the last thing I wanted was a long distance relationship, let alone one that included a passport. Au contraire!2 In true Solo Travel Me form, I was swiping on Hinge one night in Barcelona, planning (whoops) to meet the first guy I matched with for drinks, have a fun night, adios. I was there for a good time, not a long time. I joked about this on the podcast I used to have, but it’s true: When it comes to dating, I’m a US 6 but a Europe 9. I just fare better overseas, and now that I think about it, that’s probably tied to the free-spirited side of me that comes out when I travel. May have just had a breakthrough.
But the connection with my ex was simply too strong to chalk up to just a fling. My point is, I was flying solo and therefore able to let go, and boom…the last thing I was expecting showed up. Despite its expiration date, that relationship was one I’ll forever cherish. Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be sitting here, at a café in Lille (whose wifi password is so long and convoluted that I’m forced to use my hotspot), writing this post. The textbook definition of full circle moment.
And that’s the mindf*ck3: What once was a place to which I visited is now home, which causes me to wonder just how much I am able to release my grip on life now that I am no longer traveling abroad on my own, but living abroad on my own. Where does that leave my sense of control? Yes/oui, this is now home. But the fact remains that I’m still a new person in a foreign country, and so my mindset is the same as it was in Barcelona 4 years ago. Explore, have fun, rinse and repeat. But best laid plans, life happens when you’re busy making other plans, bladdy blah. Because I find myself in an eerily similar situation.
And since I have to get to work, I’ve just decided there will have to be a part deux.
(Psst, paid subscribers: I’m still figuring out this whole audio recording thing. It’s coming soon. Thanks for bearing with me.)
Yep, I was blessed with this stupid disorder at age 8. A future paywall’d story?
Some of the only French I know (for now)…
I’m censoring select words for my father, who reads every post and has told me numerous times that he doesn’t like it when I curse in my writing. Forever a daddy’s girl.
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It’s is like we are forced to be one thing but but there’s this whole other side that keeps peeping through that we struggle to embrace or make sense of because they both can’t possibly true. But in fact they are! It takes years and seasons for some of us to break free from the little box and finally explore what’s been trying to break free all along. I’m so happy you were able to embrace this side and somehow get them both to work for you even if it sometimes does feel like it does. Love reading this so much. Every part of you is so incredible Ali. I want a cool oxymoron too😂
Curiouser and curiouser:-)…..