I have a habit of romanticizing things. I will idealize just about everything I can, which almost always leads to disappointment or burnout.
I romanticized airports as soon as I had the opportunity to do so. The first time I flew I was too young to have any memories of it, but the airport quickly became my second home. I loved every trip, but I loved the journey there more. The hustle and bustle and business of the airport drew me in.
A lot of it goes back to the blog I wrote about being busy. I have always wanted the life of a business woman who was jumping from city to city with new clients and meetings. I wanted to be jet-setting like that.
I’ve traveled more in the past twelve months than ever before in my life. Between moving to Montreal, being in a long distance relationship, working remotely, and going to conferences, flying became an every-other-week occurrence. I’m sure you can imagine how easily it lost it’s glamour.
Despite this, I am making my best effort to learn how to love flying again. It used to be very easy for me to be happy in an airport, but now I find that I have to make an active effort to find happiness in traveling. It takes more work, but it’s worth it to remind myself of how grateful traveling used to make me feel.