7 Things You Must Give Up to Move On

Self-care is not about face masks or spa treatments. or posting new nails on your Instagram and seeing more than 11 likes when you are really dying inside.

It is not about pretending to post happy subjects or moments when you are finally out the house to Facebook when inside you are still thinking about painful sore subjects in your heart.

writing publishing GIF

Self-care is actual growth. It is admitting to your followers that they are not going to get photos of happiness but growth. It is admitting to your content that the time break involved giving up a few things and planting new ideas.

  1. Stop feeling ashamed of past failures

    Whenever you feel the embarrassment or pain related to an issue, you have to get over the idea that you have to overcome this pain. That is bullshit. Overcoming pain is the end goal and the prettiest way to tell followers how strong you are. But strength comes from actually tackling that shame you feel.  ENDURE it. Why do you still feel embarrassed by your mistakes? Did you take responsibility for your actions? Then why do you continue to pity yourself for that pain? Are you making changes in your life to be better? Then relive those moments with your better self and make better choices when replaying those painful memories. If they don’t answer to the better self you have become, then you know you have changed as you don’t know how in reality they would react. But I believe if you can replay these moments and the subject’s reply in a kind way, you are looking for reassurance. And that is also okay. people hurt us, and sometimes we try to be better for people who don’t care about changing for us. We then want to seek them out to show them how much we have done. But that doesn’t benefit your growth in the long term.

  2. Don’t make excuses instead of real-time decisions

    A lot of people fail in the long term because of excuses they make. A lot of relationships fail because of these excuses. This does not relate to your career only. Understand when you make excuses for other people and not take any action, the relationship would fail.

  3. People’s opinions of you do not matter and you need to start believing this sooner rather than later

    Sometimes we forget this. I do. We forget this so many times in our lives. When we make mistakes, we may care when we want people to notice we have changed. However, people notice without you trying. You have to do what is best for you. Even if it is walking away from hard situations. You have to choose yourself. Your point of view matters more than anyone else. How you take care of yourself matters more. Take care of yourself when you are sad and then tell your loved one and your friends. Take care of yourself with healthy methods and then tell your friends as a summary rather than expecting them to fix the situation. If they wish to add or tell you their input or fix, they are adding to what you have already done.

  4. Are you running from problems?

    Stop running. If you feel it is too hurtful to deal with, you are running. Cry to ease the hurt. There is nothing wrong with crying. Laughter eases pain and so does crying. Find ways to ease the pain and then tackle the wound. Face the issues that bother. Was it a failure? Was it feeling worthless? Answer those questions in a creative way and find solutions. When you feel hurt, what must you do? When you feel worthless, what method helps you to achieve that makes you see your worth? If you feel like a failure, remind yourself that learning from mistakes erases that failure.

  5. Stop sitting empty-handed

    Keeping your mind empty is a foolproof way to feel nothing. Doing nothing about the situation is still like doing something negative. Feeling numb or not fixing the situation and letting yourself just do nothing, doesn’t work

  6. No appreciation about life.

    You are not a failure. Stop letting yourself do that. You won’t do that to your own friends. There are so many things about you that are special and wonderful and you cannot depend on someone else for your life’s decision. Even if that includes how you feel about yourself. Appreciate what you have and try to make it excellent. Understand that you can make the next day however you want it to be. If you want to be a traveler, you actually can sell everything and go on trips. Stop thinking that you cannot be what you see on Instagram or what you think he or she likes. Stop appreciating other bodies and souls when you have something amazing in front of you. People can change. So can you. You can change your predicament. You can be what you see on that Instagram feeds or be something entirely new. Appreciate what you have first.

  7. Stop procrastinating your life goals

    When problems come into your life, it is so easy to forget to deal with them. You think so quickly about what you need to achieve but then you realize you aren’t actually going after your dreams either. If you’re a writer, then why aren’t you writing? That’s when the self-pity cycle starts again. I’m hurting so I cannot write. Why am I hurting when I should be moving on? Why are you complaining when you have so much to do? Why are you a writer if you don’t write? This shit is crap because you haven’t dealt with the hurt. I’m hurting, leave me alone. All that noise does is stop you. It is telling you right there to stop avoiding that wound. Cry about it if you want to. Cry and say fuck you to everyone or everything if that is what you need or feel. Deal with the hurt. Process it through creative outlets. Because you really have two choices: acceptance or change the situation.

I have found through my writing that painful subjects are hard to tear through. Writing them down meant to actually deal with hurt. It felt like complaining to me. But I realized that you have a choice to listen to me. And that expressing my emotional need shouldn’t feel like cumbersome to me because I am thinking about what people think.

I tell my therapist sorry for crying. I tell people sorry for sharing my life and my pain when they ask and are there for me. I overly show gratitude to those who are being friends because I am actually surprised that they want to hear my pain.

It is an internalizing method that I have not gotten over because I keep attracting externalizing people who use me for emotional reasons.

I’ve realized a lot over the past few months and I realized that there is no reason to blame anyone. Just put your head down and do your work.

It sucks really when no one notices the work. When other people seem like they have everything together but truthfully, they also have thier issues.

It sucks when their followers praise them but you get nothing from it.

I kept feeling horrible for mistakes I’ve made. And then choosing emotionally unavailable people. Or feeling bad about my depression when I shared it.

“No one wants to hear about depression.”

However, the truth is when people care, they show it. When people want you in their life, they work hard to make sure you are there. And when they want to know your grievances, they actually ask questions and not avoid your eye.

I’ve learned in 2017 to stop trying for people who obviously do not want to try for you. When your instincts are telling you that you are doing most of the work, as usual, leave. Walk away. There is no more point when they would only tell you what is wrong with you anyway instead of truly assessing how you have been inconvenienced.

2017: Trying too hard for people.

2018 is a new year but it is not the end of everything you feel. See it as a continued growing year where there is no fresh cleanse but just you hustling up a hill and knowing that there may be hills after this one.

Self-care and growth is a lifetime process and I plan to be better every time. I want to try harder and I know when the new year comes, a new Meghan is not what I should expect but instead, I see myself as a learning experience. Not to hate myself for my mistakes, or not pay attention to open wounds but actively work towards success.

2018 won’t solve your problems. Saying goodbye to 2017 won’t erase them. You can only learn from your mistakes if you want to achieve success.

And that word, success. That is defined by you and only you.

Oprah Winfrey Success GIF


I am trying to fall in love with myself again.

I hated my last year abroad. Until I realized I had to fall in love again. With myself.

I have decided to live in Africa and I regretted that decision immediately. Mostly because how unprepared you can be in this state. After my service, I was incredibly lucky.

Carlos in Bus

I got a job immediately. With incredible pay and experience. I had no interest in returning back to America. I just watched the wrong person become President and it only cemented my dreams of living aboard. I have incredible international friends that would last over distances compared to friends in the US who became preoccupied with life.

I wasn’t angry at them. Africa didn’t excite them and WiFi/Netflix filled their lives. I was nothing but cool for the moment. A likable Facebook post that you pass on your feed.

I didn’t mind. I wanted to live in a foreign country. I wanted my children to have citizenship in an another country. I wanted to find someone who enjoyed the life I had made for myself. To meet me in my path and join their path with mine. I was living my dream.

I learned many things in my last year here. I forgot the village and my dog so easily. I wanted to continue work in nonprofit and public service work. I still wanted to write and produce novels that spoke of the era I lived in. I was on my way.

I learned that many things you plan for, don’t happen. I think of this of my senior year. I did not accomplish much. But it was okay I didn’t because I knew that this was leading towards my future. I wanted to continue living and doing whatever I wanted. How many times do I have to repeat that I was independent?

How many times do I have to tell myself that this last year was worth it? I will remake the money I have lost. I will grow in a person continuously.

Traveling alone is the most frightening part of this journey. Figuring everything out with your own American perspective without anyone else to talk to is frightening. Incredibly frightening. I am scared every day. I am so scared when RPCV’s judge my choices. Current PCVs are so proud of me. But they don’t understand this struggle. So much of the international world cannot be experienced without money. And outside of Peace Corps, you have to work a nine to five job with less than two weeks of personal days for vacation. Life sucks after Peace Corps.


It sucked for a year. Loneliness was the largest burden. I had to constantly remind myself that I was okay. I am okay. You are okay. I will be okay. But I wasn’t.

I became sad. Depression kicked in quickly. Management at my new place sucked out any creative and happy energy. I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to write again but I lost my voice.

I became a survivor. Survive this last year. Survive this last year. Run back to you mother and let her keep you in her strong arms and regroup. Regroup then. Regroup then. Survive. Survive. Survive with a smile.

I lost friends again. It was frightening again. It is the universe, I kept thinking, saying I deserved loneliness. Friends walked in and out. I still survived. I lived in an incredible place and wanted nothing. I had food and a roof. I was warm. I was comfortable.

But I was only surviving. Depression was my nighttime, unhappiness was my morning ritual, and loneliness was my daily friend.

I couldn’t cry anymore and I couldn’t express my feelings. The writing was lost to me. It was the hardest heartbreak to ever happen in my life. I lost the love of my life.

Now you may be wondering why I am writing now. I had to fall back in love with the most important and incredible thing to happen to me. When I learned to write and write passionately, I also dreamed. Dreamed in scenes. Epics and tragedies occurred all in one night. In great detail, I would remember everything and would inspire me to write more. My dreams were filled with worlds and my hands were desperate. Desperate to write words and type them. Otherwise, my mind would explode with voices unheard.

I fell back in love. I am still depressed, trust me. That shit doesn’t go away. But I had to fall to rock bottom. The first thing I lost was trust. I no longer trust anyone. Emotions were investments and I no longer gave it away for free. I cannot call myself a giver when I expected a return. I thought daily that I deserved trust and love. I realized I may be alone forever. I had to be okay with that.

I am still not okay with it.

I had to fall to the bottom and rise back again.

A phoenix. Except there was no Dumbledore waking me up from the fragile ugly chick I am. I was burning first.

I am still slowly fall in love. I do not know this beautiful thing anymore. She has changed. So have I. But I know she is magical. And I want to deserve her again. To write is my life.

But I am still trying to survive and not live. It will take time before I am back. Or maybe fully understand who I am now. Who she is now.




As you sleep in the darkness, could you feel your chest heavier than the it was during the day?

Because that is how I feel. I wonder laying here how my thoughts are filled with thoughts of people who choose not to be in my life or choose to not fight for me.

And I cry because no one begs for me. Like I’m begging the skies. No one begs to see me in their dreams holding my arms out to them. No one cries with broken hearts and heavy chests and tear stained eyes screaming silently in the darkness. Not for me.

There is no one who prays for me. Who says my name as they sleep hoping that at least in their dreams I exist with them. No one wishes for me. Or dreams for me. Or hopes for someone like me. I’m not the name that comes to their lips when they see a chance for a wish.

And it makes me cry. Knowing the truth of this fact. That I’m not wanted. That I’m just a paragraph. A sentence in people’s lives. And I wished to devote chapters to others when I was just a footnote.

My heart is broken. But I never break hearts. I cry in darkness. No one cries for me.

I want me. I love me. But no one else does. And it breaks my heart over and over again.


I wanted to write about how badly broken trust works for me.  I don’t trust easy. I don’t even break that principle. I’m adventurous, fun, and free.

Please excuse this bad writing. I haven’t written anything in so long because this blockage I felt in all my creativity. 

But when I let someone in…They don’t understand the mess it makes in my mind when it breaks.

I woke up today with a nightmare. I saw this person breaking my trust running behind my back to get with a girl. I saw them in corners and then I found them together in a tent.

The story isn’t relevant. To be honest, I had horrible people who ditched me when things got tough and I see them ditching me sometimes when these moments return. The story of the nightmare is not the focus. I just see the distrust, the pain, and the insecurities flare up.When depression hits, a lot of friends bailed. So now I never tell people that I am going through things and deal with it myself. When anxiety breaks using my insecurities, I deal with it on my own and pace around.

People don’t care to look up anxiety signs in partners or wonder when I’m pacing. Or if they do recognize it, I wonder for the day they get tired of it.

It’s because people before them have broken that trust. This fucking nightmare woke me up to this realization that my pain is still in the forefront. I could see being hurt over and over and people choosing their selfishness over my feelings.

I saw her saying she was my friend and still using me. I saw him telling her, chasing her…  And I saw it play it again and again.

And my anxiety fed on that moment: if she returned, he would do the same thing.

Nightmares are not common for me. I have such deeply vivid dreams. Writing is this fluid landscape for me and nightmares are worse. I woke up feeling everything, seeing every image as clear as day, remembering it as perfectly, and for the rest of the day, my anxiety plays it over and over.

No one gets that pain. No one gets that my mind is my worst enemy.

At first, I wanted to be angry. Now, I just want to stem the flow of anxious thoughts that are coming from recent events.

I don’t feel like I am enough. I feel like I will always be chosen over. I’m not pretty enough. Why wouldn’t I be worth chasing after?


I hope to one day understand my anxiety well enough to write about it in my daily life and how to overcome it. But until then, nightmares are there. To remind me over and over why trusting people is useless. Why I only have myself to protect.

There are rising numbers of students facing mental health issues in Chicago. There aren’t enough mental health providers to even cope with that number. Children come from histories of standardized testing into futures maybe filled with even worry and we can’t even look after them to prevent so much of triggers. It worries me how we forget how valuable these services are and how many children grow up into adults feeling inadequate and lost.

Mental health is critical and I know that it will always be part of my life. I’ve always made my own healing steps and did them alone. I could only hope that there would be some one who’d actually look out for me and my signs. However, I don’t trust it when I see it. I just wait for the day when they are tired of my crap.

Seeing children go through this issue without any answer feels quite like abandonment to me. Children forgotten and forced to grow up without support from the community.

Mental health providers give something to children and here in Chicago, I hope they understand their value. Children grow up being told their thoughts are imaginary in many households. And sometimes their imaginary thoughts are realistic. Even then, adults tell them to just stop thinking those thoughts. But those people who care to listen. Those people who value those words. They say to those children that they can be listened to.

Without this fundamental service, these children grew up believing that no one cares about these symptoms anyway.

I’ve posted a couple of useful things and a BuzzFeed article that I send to folks who want to try and understand this. If you or a loved one suffer, please use these resources.

Without these issues, I always wonder how much more fun I’d be. How even though I love going out, going on adventures, and doing crazy things, how much easier everything would be if I wasn’t thinking too much.

I woke up from a nightmare this morning and I have to smother emotions because I got no one who understands this process. I have to stand in this horrible feeling and I have no one taking care of me. I wanted to let go of so many painful moments but my anxiety doesn’t let go of this. It returns to my dreams. I can only write about it and trust me, this shit is going to be hard on me since I wrote about this on a public platform. And I can’t do anything but smile throughout my day and say,

“I’m fine.”

27 Times Tumblr Was The Realest About Anxiety

21 Things People With Anxiety Want You To Know

23 Times The Internet Nailed What Having Anxiety Is ACTUALLY Like

Fuck Off.

I’m not great at starting new ventures. Changes are not my favorite thing.

Especially after the year I had. Since last August, I have been rolling down a hill. This is a metaphor for depression, bad luck, shitty experiences. Etc. Etc.

I have been ashamed, chosen second, lied to and so much of my identity compromised that I felt the need to keep everything close to my chest. I don’t feel like opening up anymore. I don’t even feel like being myself which is incredibly sweet and open hearted. I tried to say sorry enough to fix everything but sometimes it doesn’t work. I know that from experience.

Sorries never worked. After abuse, sorries were bullshit. After pain and heartbreak, cheating and scandal, sorry is the last thing you want to hear. I wanted to prove that I have changed but as soon as I went on my path to recovery, the people I said sorry to, closed the door behind me. It was hurtful. Like kicking a dog you no longer want. No matter how much it wants you or loves you, because it bit you back, you still threw it out.

I wanted to change. Not for them anymore but for myself. Not for people to break me so down. I never wanted to be in that position of shame ever again.

I decided to expect nothing from people anymore. I used to think highly of everyone I meet. Fuck that noise. I am going to just move on from that quiet kindness and say, “Fuck off more often.”


Hellen Mirren Quotes 4

I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to close off the world. Truth be told, I wanted to do worse things. Drink too much, eat too much, or swallow enough pills. It was depression trying to push me off a ledge.

Actual clinical depression. Not some tumblr phobia we think of when life gets at us. Anxiety and depression rule my fucking life. Especially this last year. They were running the controls.


It was either him running the controls whereas disgust, joy, or anger would be quiet for now since I couldn’t be angry for too long or disgusted for too long or joyful for too long. Anxiety and fear ran the place and when those moments lasted for days and months, anxiety called its one true friend.


I cried almost every day. I could be making food. Then, tears would flow. I couldn’t stop feeling these things. I couldn’t stop it. No matter how much I tried. No matter how much I begged her to be strong.

So I decided that fuck off is my favorite phrase. Let rage come in but not fiery Lewis Black but cynic rage.

  1. doesn’t believe in people
  2. expect the least out of people
  3. protect me first and always
  4. be honest and true even in pain.
  5. who the fuck gives a crap if people don’t stay
  6. fuck off. I don’t give a shit.

Her life changed when she learned the monsters were protecting her.

Her life changed.

She breathed fire and scales grew on her back.

Where the tail waved, it extended further,

breaking off into talons, and the skin flared.

Burning as spindles pushed through delicate skin

Holes formed where skin burned into leather

Talons ripped through the nails and bled down her skin

It itched at her as it dripped down her face.

She struck out her tongue, deviled with raw red blood

but when she tasted her own, she spit out

seeing a distant spirit

yet the itching flaked as dandruff on her back

As she shook, her skin fell

she looked to her hands who are now paws

and to the wall around her,

others standing in their scales

her life changed

when she learned the monsters were protecting her.


The Wolf would run.

If she was in the woods

with a wolf,

the wolf would run

Her cape would be the blade,

Swift and quiet but sharp till the hilt

It craned over a field of crescent flowers,

cutting off their buds

And when she walked, she cleared the hill

of all their heads.

Her smile chased the wolf and her hair

scalped his fur and burned his paws.

The wolf ran that day when her red

cloak blew his way.

The wolf ran from her howl in the night

While she slept soundly nice and tight.

Peace Corps Ruined Me.

I am sitting here, staring at a screen for almost four hours and my feet numb and tingling with reawakening. The tabs are open and many blog posts are there for my eyes to scan.

Top 3 Places to visit for the end of 2016

Places to Backpack Right Now

Africa and It’s Beautiful Cities

And it goes on and on and sometimes I just bookmark them because the images are too painful to look at.

I am on a travel site, clicking the drop downs and putting down my airport in Lusaka and how far away I could go. And then the dates are the daunting feeling that I couldn’t shake off. How many vacation days can I have? How many moments can I have? How many places can I visit in the small amount of time I have?

Why is this so fucking stressful? Why is the idea of FOMO not allowing me to enjoy the pleasant life I have created? Why do I need to see four countries at once? Why can’t I backpack anymore and see the world with a bag and a charged blackberry?

Because Peace Corps ruined my life. 

I was given an incredible chance to live in a village. Yes, true.

I was given a chance to live in another country in a rural setting for two whole years gaining skills in international development, international relations, public administration, program management and unforgettable memories. Yes, true.

I was given a job where travel was a given. It was encouraged and promoted within Zambia and all around  Africa. I have visited most of Sub Saharan Africa and I am so dazzled and amazed at how much I have seen already that it makes me wish to see all of it.

But Peace Corps ruined me. I want to talk to locals and walk in local streets, have a flair for local language learning and negotiations and working alongside the new friends I would make. Making real connections and working hard to learn the culture and adapt. One month at least is what I put in for my departure and arrival dates. One month is what I need to really experience it. But no one has 24 days of leave when you work a nine to five.

And Peace Corps ruined me so much that I now need to work on my own to even have a schedule like that ever again.

Don’t do Peace Corps. You will fall in love with the world and never have a chance to experience it all after you’re done. Or maybe you will. Maybe you will fall in love with the world and never choose to leave the traveling spirit ever again. Maybe you will dance in crowds and walk through a different street every day and maybe you won’t say Peace Corps ruined you but woke you up.

Peace Corps woke me up to the world and I am not giving up on it anytime soon. I am in love with this world and I will search for it and connect with it as much as I can possibly do.

Even if it means I will be broke.

Okay, no. That’s why the nine to five happens. So I won’t be broke doing this. But I will always be a traveler and learner of culture and I am not gonna settle for less like a 3 day weekend to Cabo. I dream big. Give me a road, great people, and good food and I will see you in thirty days!

I’m an International Hobo with a Journey to Joy.

Do you know the chilling fact that happens most of the time?

The crystallization of memory as if you left one person, one place, all swept up and clean and you hope to return to it one day without one piece of dust changed.

The crystallization is a brilliant process. It the pure freezing of time that we seek in our lives. Because that is what Peace Corps does. Gives you a slice of a world that never needed you, that existed on its own, and then it makes you love, live, and believe in the entire world. Then it ends and you hope you were part of something. You hope you could return to bliss.

But this is also the reason we remember our past romances and the reason we remember our childhood as our peaceful blissful years.

Even me, a child of domestic abuse with a parent who drank money away, I still could see the beauty in my childhood. The simplicity of the age and the fact that everything was simple. No decisions were made. Everything was made for us.

During my two years, my decisions were made for me. It was an ease I could quickly get used to because it was something I had to do. Nothing would work if I pushed for it. I was used to going with the flow as that was the cultural climate.

Then I was rushed back into the real world. And I thought I could use my skills to further my career. But everyone and I mean everyone did not care. They did not care how much I have gone through or how much I have learned because it didn’t help them or guide them. It may have tortured them with the guilt of lack of self-sacrifice or aggravated them that I couldn’t let go of my past.

My past will always be my present. Those two years have made me different. And yet, to the world, my experience is not worthwhile because even though I have experienced this, it is not good to dwell on the past. I have to move on and be better in a different environment just like I have adapted to the environment I was put in as a Peace Corps volunteer.

But now is the time to move on. To forget the past into rose colored filtered memories but to take what we have learned and grow from this. To remember it is our past and not for everyone to relive so that we have an optimal working space. Forgiveness is not our game. Forgive me, I am so used to other things.

What happened to my adaptability, I wondered?

What happened to my free-form style? Why am I so used to doing nothing? No drive behind my goals and dreams.

It wasn’t the lack of drive but the feeling of responsibility. I felt responsible for the lack of development I encountered in the village. I felt responsible for all the world’s problems that could be solved just because I got a taste of reality that made me feel like an international development believer. But instead, a dose of reality came after the reality check. That I am alone and one person in this field and that there are millions of strings and loops you have to take to get to where you want which is a developed country.

I also was ready for my easy career that was a perfect fit tailored to me. And that is the true problem. Struggle was part of these last two years.

Struggle. I was still a college graduate who had an entire path ahead where anything came come together from the lessons learned through Peace Corps. But the years have ended and I am closer to 26 than I ever was before.


Do I continue in development work? Do I go for public policy work to really change lives? Do I still write and become the writer that my ten year old self dearly wished to be?

And then another question came up to play: why wasn’t there enough time to conquer all these endeavors?

And the scariest thought of all:: Money.

I am here to say that this blog has always centered around travel and Peace Corps. But I am changing this. I am morphing this blog to represent me, Meghan Mathew.

I am an aspirational person and my dream was always to change the world either through the written word or the policies or organizations I start or work in that really make a calculatable impact.


I want to socially change the world through my actions and it may include all the goals I go for or may be through one. But you will see it unfold here. On my journey to joy.

A Namibian Desert Awaits

I usually am late when it comes to posting about adventures that has happened whilst I take this journey into self awakening and manifestation.

One of the lands I have dreamed about growing up thinking of the vast continent of Africa as a little girl were the coastal countries influenced by colonialism that plagued their history and their independence and finally the local charisma and culture that still thrives into its future.

Namibia was one of those countries that caught my eye that survived with a third of Zambia’s population in a desert location that is also coastal with incredible game parks and safaris. Animals here are the animals you think of when you think of Africa, coasting desert skylines, bare watering holes that have a  season of its own, and sleeping under bushes and trees to escape the heat and sun.

It was an adventure seeing it for ourselves as we walked around Windhoek for the first few days. As Volunteers, we have more confidence as travelers hoping for local culture and exposure, not really wanting any luxury or tourist locations unless we have a craving for treat yo self kind of mentality. So we searched out local  talent and music shows that is present in this capital city. I was expecting a lot more nightlife but this city turned quiet and unsafe as soon as the sun went down. We expected more from this city but the great finds we encountered were a surprise.

Singers of the area sang of freedom, representation, and the beauty that surrounds them. It was powerful being surrounded by people of color from all areas of the world listening to lyrics that show the strength of people still trying to recognize their own voice and their own beauty.

Driving was the next challenge. Driving around in a small car was not smart, i agree but for two people who decides to rent out lodges or camp spaces on a cheap way. We stocked up on food and meat as well as snacks for hours of driving on sandy roads and gravel while we played music.

Traveling up north we passed Omaruru where we spent time at wood carvings and souvenirs. We slept at Uis and then drove the wrong way for an hour, delaying our whole day. We went to the petrified forest and saw mica, iron oxide, and silicone replace every living cell in fallen trees making them last over thousands of years. Later that evening, we got a flat tire causing us to be strong and realize we may be stranded with low gas in the heat with no strength. Luckily, immediately a car came by and saved us. We had it in the bag with just time but hey, they did it due time. We race to Twlfyontein and we were late but with some rushing and begging, we joined the last tour guide. In some beautiful landscapes, we saw incredible engravings with deep symbolic meaning to the people of the area.

The heat of the entire day soaked in. I was sick for four days already and nothing in my body told me I was truly enjoying everything. Except the beauty that surrounded us all day. Except the chance to breathe in an air that was different even though it is a neighbor to Zambia.

Come to Africa, because in one breathless week, Namibia has taken away my words. Wonder what the entire continent would do for you?