Having recently enrolled in a master’s program and desiring time to recharge, I decided to take a short solo trip to Traverse City. After a year marked by health challenges and uncertainty, I thought, “What better way to reset and recharge?”
Before the trip, my parents gently asked me about my plans, and I found myself continually dodging a real answer. I told them that I was excited and that I would figure it out; the truth was I just didn’t feel motivated to make plans, and couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was wrong. Wasn’t I excited? Don’t I just love adventure?
The morning of my trip, I did some last-minute packing and told myself that it was pre-trip nerves. Once I was actually there, I’d surely fall in love. The lake and dunes would speak to my soul. Despite my positive self-talk, I found myself sad. I felt so much pressure to have a storybook trip, and so deflated in energy. I was having to force myself to go on a vacation.
Upon arriving at the hotel, my mindset didn’t shift much; I was still uneasy. I couldn’t understand how I could feel sad when I had the most breathtaking view of Lake Michigan, but all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, watch the World Cup, and read. And that’s what I did.
Spoiler alert: my weird feelings never went away. And I did do some “fun things.” I climbed the sand dunes at Sleeping Bear Dunes, saw stunning views, went on peaceful walks, and saw a lighthouse. Was it nice getting some fresh air? Of course! Did I like the views? Yes. But was it the magic I craved? No. I still just wanted to watch soccer and read.
As I drove back to my parents’ house, I reflected on a trip that felt like a failure. I had fun, but I worried that I spent so much money for only a mediocre experience. Guilt immediately flooded me.
I realized subconsciously that I was comparing this to my previous trips to Arkansas and Sri Lanka: both places full of magic. Arkansas is such a green state: full of waterfalls, mountains, and lakes. And while family roots make me biased towards Sri Lanka, I fell in love with the temples, jungles, wildlife, ocean, nature, and people. On both of these trips, I felt as though I took full advantage of the experience, and when I look through my camera roll, I see nothing but joy. That’s real and that’s beautiful, but I realize in hindsight that that joy came from a hard place. When I took these magical trips, I came at a time when I was severely struggling with my health and had lost my confidence; simply going for a walk felt like a miracle from God. Those experiences felt like a lifeline, and that’s why I never doubted the money I spent.
Now, my life is different. I’m enrolled in a master’s program, I’ve settled in a good routine with my parents, I’m regaining health, and I’m getting back into my hobbies. While these are all positive steps, I’m in transition, and I’m so exhausted. This season I crave stability more than adventure. “Ordinary” activities like sitting in bed and reading sound more rejuvenating than a monster hike. It all makes me uncomfortable, but I think that no longer needing an escape is a sign I’m growing.
Still, though? I wish I wasn’t so grumpy in northern Michigan, and had more romantic stories to tell.
But I don’t, and I think that’s okay.
Michelle Ferdinands (’22) graduated from Calvin University with degrees in mathematics and computer science. She lives in Kansas City and works as a software engineer. She loves to run and read, and she’s always up for an adventure.
