My adult life has steadily consisted of dreaming about living the life of an international nomad. But it took me years to figure out why I was so eager to live this life and almost moved to Germany to make this “dream” come true.
First, let me state that this is just my personal interpretation and it does necessarily reflect every person who is a nomad or desires to go down that path.
As a child, where I lived was inconsistent and once some stability would come, it would only be around the corner that we were going somewhere else.
By the time I graduated high school, I'd lived in four states and various communities within them. We were unfortunately homeless twice: once bouncing around hotels until we found a place and another time relegated to a homeless shelter for a few months.
At the age of 21, I moved to my 5th state, Tennessee, but then came back to New Jersey and frequently moved around the state for years. I believe at one point I moved every year to a new town for about 6 years in a row.
Mentally, I had always felt like a nomad who was unsure where his home was and, even worse, unsure what a home was.
Every time I moved, the fewer items I would accumulate because what's the point of building a home that you're eventually going to leave anyway?
When I started traveling in my mid-30s, I contemplated that maybe I didn't have a home because America wasn't the place I was supposed to be. Maybe there was a new challenge out there for me that I'm supposed to yearn for but I can only grasp it outside of my homeland.
For months, I applied for jobs throughout Europe but primarily in Germany. I had a project that I was accepted for but it fell through shortly after accepting it (thankfully).
After years of introspection, I finally understood why I was so desperate for a new beginning elsewhere: I was running away.
I was running away from my loneliness as a single man in his thirties who was failing to become a married man. I was running away from my unresolved personal issues and was seeking a fresh start elsewhere.
I felt unfulfilled even though things were in some ways finally starting to go in my direction. I had caved into the idea of not having a permanent home because every time I tried to have one, it always failed to manifest.
However, those days of wanting to be a nomad are over because I'm finally honest about why I wanted to leave in the first place and I have my wife as a force that has helped me see that it’s plausible to have what has been nearly impossible possess my entire life: a home.
I knew my mentality was beginning to change when I started traveling with her after we got married. The old Adam would envision what it must be like to live in the place I was visiting but that imagery wasn't there because my wife was next to me.
For the first time, I felt like a tourist with a purpose to return to my homeland instead of a scout who is looking forward to buying another flight in the near future.
But I knew my nomad fantasies were completely gone on my recent trip while walking around a Madrid suburb. On our final day, my son asked me if I had a good time and I replied "Yeah, but I just want to go home."
I missed my wife, I missed our home and I missed our dog. My wife has helped to build a foundation for us and has brought me hope that a home, a real home, is possible for a former nomad like me.
We are looking to purchase property next year and I never thought it would be possible for me to accomplish this.
Life is about timing and I'm thankful my attempts to leave America behind all failed: sometimes the best moments and people come from the situations we fail the most at.
I can totally relate. I had been running since I was 18, not because I had a bad home life (I had a loving family), but because nothing satisfied me. I would run to the next place and wait to be happy. The change had to come from inside me. I'm so glad you found your happiness.
Your wife IS your home. If you have children too, your wife and children ARE your home. When you married, you took your home with you when you travelled and didn't feel the itch to move; when you didn't, you felt the tug of home. Wherever your wife lays her head, that's your home. ;-)