When I was 18, I stuffed my bags into my 1999 Buick LaSabre and embarked on a 2,200 mile trip to the heart of Los Angeles. And after graduation, I packed my bags once more—this time for grad school in Ireland. “You’re becoming a bit of a nomad,” one of my friends joked at my going away party. At first, her words concerned me. Was I becoming too nomadic? Was I incapable of committing to a place? Why wasn’t I more like most of my friends from Georgia, who attended college in-state and then got married soon after? After spending some time thinking about it, however, I realized why I love going to new places.

I love traveling because it expands my horizon through introducing me to people and places different than me.
 I love traveling because it allows me to see what people are like all across the globe. 
I love traveling because it reminds me of how beautiful the world truly is.
 I love traveling because I have experienced Thanksgiving dinner with newfound friends in Ireland,
 because I have experienced sunrises atop the Smoky Mountains,
 because I have played in the ocean all day long,
 and because I have met people who have shown me what life is really all about.
 I love traveling because I love exploring all the world has to offer.

When I was a high school student in rural Georgia, I couldn’t wait to escape my small town and head to the big city. Once I lived in the bustling city of Los Angeles, however, I realized that I sometimes missed the laidback pace of life in small town America, and the shared camaraderie of neighbors who actually know each other. And even though I was ready to trade in the traffic-ridden, smog-filled city of Los Angeles for the coasts of Ireland, I found myself missing the people who had made one of America’s biggest cities feel like home to me. Sometimes I envy my college roommate Anna. She grew up in Los Angeles, attended college an hour from home, and now works in the same vicinity. Her family, boyfriend, and church friends are all within a thirty-mile radius. My life will never be as simple as that. The people I love will never be contained within the same zip code. Yet I’m realizing there’s something beautiful about that reality. Anna has one home, but me? I have several homes, from Georgia to Los Angeles to Europe. I have people who love me scattered all across the globe. I will always have a home to go to, regardless of where I am. These people don’t fit within the same zip code or even the same time zone, but they will always be in my heart, and I will always be in theirs. And somehow, that’s even more beautiful to me than spending my entire life within the same zip code. Big black backpack