When you are enough (Waiheke Island, NZ)



It’s a strange feeling, hugging people goodbye that you just met yesterday and feeling genuinely sad to see them go. Opening up to complete strangers about love and life and the things that scare you most. Unspoken understandings that anything goes; that no one’s judging your decisions; that everyone’s here for their own reasons. Knowing that everyone’s lost and free and liberated. That we’re all in this together.

Talking about the places you’ve gone and the places you’ll go. Cheersing with people whose names you forget but whose stories you know. Feeling like you have never been simultaneously more alone and more a part of something all at once. Knowing that no one else in the entire world will understand this moment the way these 8, 9, 10 people will. And knowing that’s okay.

Watching the waves and thinking how, when I close my eyes, it sounds like home. It sounds like the cottage, actually. This sound always makes me think of the cottage. And I like that, because it makes me feel close to those people I’ve said goodbye to for the time being.

It rained, and I didn’t mind at all. I was hot and I was tipsy and it felt nice to sit under a canopy with nowhere to go and nothing to do but fill the silence with these people I had come to appreciate so much. People who made me heart happy. Not people just for the sake of people.

I almost cancelled my hostel on this island. I was so eager to get away from Auckland and I didn’t think a few nights on Waiheke Island would be taking me far enough. But it’s a whole other world over here. I feel so peaceful and full. And I didn’t catch the boat back because I just wasn’t ready to leave. And isn’t it so nice to feel that way about a place? To feel so good about yourself somewhere that you can’t bring yourself to go away? 

And maybe this feeling will carry right into my next destination, and maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll end up back here and maybe I won’t. And I don’t think it matters, because it’s like I have this thing inside myself that I know how to find now. It’s the first time I’ve been here that I’ve actually understood I am strong & I am enough.

That was such an embarrassing couple sentences eh. They sound so lame. But they’re true, and I don’t know how else to say it, so I’m leaving it in there.

Booya. I’m my own editor.

I think I’ve surrounded myself with so many people for all of my life because a) I genuinely like a lot of people but also because b) it’s so comforting to me. And I always thought I was really good at being alone, but maybe that’s because it was always an escape from my norm. Maybe being good at being alone came from having the option to be with people all the time. And now I don’t naturally have that, but it’s naturally happening, and it’s such a strange and lovely experience. It makes you realize what you really care about in other human beings. And it’s so simple. You just want to be around people who are genuinely kind with interesting brains. Everything else is bonus, and it really puts into perspective what people are probably thinking about you, and it’s just as simple. No one gives a shit if I’m writing a book or not. People just want to be around the people that make them feel good. Everything else is an afterthought, and I love this, because it makes everything so simple when you really think about. It all comes down to simply being a good motha fuckinnn person. And it’s so weirdly hard to understand this and live this way! It’s so hard not to care about all the other shit and our jeans and our hair and who got more Instagram likes. But in these moments when all we have is ourselves, it becomes so insanely obvious and I feel really really really good about this.

So, to sum up: be nice to people.

And drink in the rain, obviously.