I leave New Zealand in 5 days.

Part of me screams “No!”, while the other part cheers.

I’m torn.

Before I left, I was scared to come. I was scared to leave my comfort zone – to get out and do things. I even had the pre-thing jitters. You know, the ones where deep in your heart, you kind of hope that your plans will fall through. That way, it isn’t your fault. You tried, but alas, you don’t have to go anywhere/do anything/meet anyone new. It’s almost humorous to think back on now, because I’ve enjoyed my time here so incredibly much.

From the very first day I got here, I have enjoyed what I am doing and the people I am working with. It is simply fun work, even outside of the whole “the farm being in New Zealand” thing. And then, you throw the whole “the farm being in New Zealand” thing on top, and it is a recipe for an amazing time. And that is what I’ve had.

I just truly cannot believe that I have been here a month. I’m thinking back to the early parts of my summer, and it feels like a lifetime ago. This past month, I’ve created a life here, and now I have to leave it? It feels wrong.

But on the other hand, I’m going home. I’ll be back in my own country. My family is there, my boyfriend is there, my dogs are there, my friends are there… and I get to turn my phone off of airplane mode! Finally! I am so looking forward to being back – to living that life which I have been missing so dearly for the past month.

However, I’ll never be able to come back to the life I have here. I will never be able to live this experience again. Sure, I could come back and work on the farm, but Marine and Dan won’t be here. The horses will be different. The kids will have grown up while I’m gone.

This is a flicker of time in my life which I will never have the power to replicate. That is an incredibly tough thing to say goodbye to.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: a month is not a long time.

But it is over for me in 5 days.

No more waking up in a room that is surely below 50 degrees Fahrenheit (some days, I can literally see my breath in my bedroom). No more filling hay bags and getting hay everywhere inside my clothes – how does that even happen? No more waking up at 7:45 to wrestle goats into their pen and get jumped on by excited dogs. No more mucking out paddocks and stalls everyday. No more instant coffee (I swear, that is all they drink here) and no more calling everything I used to know as cookies “biscuits”. No more frosty mornings and sunny afternoons, no trail rides with my friends, no more Master Chef Australia or The Chaser on TV at night.

No more.

So while I’m so beyond excited to go home, I’m devastated to say goodbye to a home I will never have again. The difficulty of leaving is something I did not truly prepare myself for before I came here. I somewhat wish I had known what was coming.

Here’s to enjoying my time left in this wonderful place.


4 thoughts on “Torn

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  1. Yes that feeling of never being able to go back is why we have to make the most of every experience. I used to feel sad like that when I was travelling, but would remind myself it was ok to feel sad and wasn’t I lucky to have been there at all?


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