Words by Lucy Nimmo // photograph by Dovile Ramoskaite
My life in Sydney is perfect.
I have the most fabulous friends, I’m working at a job I love, creating beautiful floral arrangements with other talented, young women.
My apartment is just 15 minutes from the beach and about 20 from the city, the sweet spot. My boyfriend and I have built rituals and habits I’ve come to crave. My local cafe starts making my oat latte, before I reach the front of the line. I know all the good restaurants, bookstores, walking tracks and lookouts.
I love my life in Sydney, so why have I booked a one-way flight to London in February?
Family and friends have been asking me that question for a few months now and I’ve struggled to give an honest answer. My current go-to is: living over there means I can explore the world more easily. And while yes, that’s true and something I’m excited for, it’s a bit of a cop-out answer.
My nearest and dearest keep asking,
‘Where are you going to live?’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘How long are you going for?’
All great questions I’d also love to know the answer to.
If I’m being honest though, I don’t know why I’m going. I hate the cold, I’ll have no friends, and rent is going to be disgustingly expensive. I don’t have a job lined up, my family aren’t a quick flight away anymore, not to mention the insane time differences, and I don’t even like soccer (I should probably start calling it football)!
So why leave when I don’t know what’s on the other side?
I’ve always struggled with uncertainty, and like my fellow Type A anxious girls, I like to be in control. In Sydney I have routine, structure, a cup that feels full.
So why did I book the flight? For a while, I thought it was self-sabotage, as though I didn’t deserve that perfect Sydney life, but now I think it’s something much less melodramatic. I’m bored. Sydney isn’t challenging me anymore, and that small part of me that likes to do hard things is ready for something more demanding.
I’ve collected my thoughts/research and have three decent reasons why I think it’s important for me to do hard things and why maybe you should push yourself to do hard things too:
Doing hard things will make you appreciate the good things
Leaving some of the best people I know is one of the hardest things about moving so far away. However, knowing that I’m leaving has made me more present when I’m with family and friends. It’s also made me realise how lucky I am to have people in my life that make saying goodbye so hard.
Doing anything new or inherently hard comes with sacrifice and a whole lot of self-doubt. Before it gets better, it will get worse. Even so, it’s when you’re knee deep in starting a new job, moving to a different country or trying a new hobby, that the small rewards begin to appear. I know they won’t surface straight away, but it’ll feel great once I find my new go-to pub or café.
Which ‘what if’ would you least regret in five years?
This was a piece of advice from a friend. It was during a time she had to make a similar hard decision: should she quit her job to volunteer overseas? With no guarantee her position would be available upon return, and having to say goodbye to loved ones, it was a difficult choice. She asked herself which choice would she regret more in five years: staying in the job she loved or going on this once-in-a-lifetime adventure? She chose adventure, she found love and a whole new purpose along the way.
Like when I first moved to Sydney from Melbourne, I know London will hold some amazing adventures. I’m looking forward to exploring the city in every way—visiting the pubs my parents loved when they were my age, joining new clubs (the book-reading kinds, not the running ones!), and trying local restaurants recommended by actual locals. Picnics in Hyde Park, wine and cheese (obviously), theatre nights, strolling through Notting Hill, and shopping at Camden Market—I’ll be doing it all. While the move will be hard, I know I’ll make precious memories, just like the ones I made in Sydney.
