Free in Tassie
When I first landed back in Sydney in December, I expected to be excited — thrilled to begin this next chapter of my life, especially when for a moment it looked like the move might not happen.
But I landed on a rainy day and took that as a bad omen. Within the first week I was a giant ball of anxiety. All of a sudden I had this endless amount of free time (no more endless doctor appointments and insurance phone calls; no more rushing from one event to another) and numerous decisions to make regarding what came next (job search, living situation, community). I felt myself creeping back to old ways of thinking — mainly of wanting to go pursue the most prestigious job and sexiest title to prove that this move was worth it. Yet that was so antithetical to why I quit my job in the first place and completely misaligned to the realizations I’d discovered over the past year and a half.
Here I was in Sydney, expecting that being physically here instead of New York would immediately relieve me of all the pressure and expectations I felt back in New York. But instead I felt overwhelmed by the weight my own expectations and disconnected to the person I’d become prior to my diagnosis. To be fair, December was the first time where I wasn’t distracted by something, whether that be good somethings like the New York City Marathon and Thanksgiving or bad somethings like navigating the health insurance system, and could finally start to process and come to terms with what had happened to me that summer.
Well if I learned anything over the past two years, it’s that I do my best thinking in the mountains. So on Christmas Eve I phoned up my friend Kazu, who had originally invited me over to Tasmania, and told him I was booking a flight for Boxing Day (Dec 26) to join him, his family, and his partner Satori.
Eating dinner with Kazu, Otosan, and Okasan in their hometown of Sendai, Japan back in November 2024.
I landed in Hobart and immediately reunited with Kazu and his parents, whom I affectionally call Otosan and Okasan, which are Japanese for Father and Mother.
We spent our first day in Tasmania watching planes take off and land at Hobart Airport (I’ve always said that this would be my perfect first date — there’s something incredibly powerful and wonderful about witnessing these giant pieces of steel take off into the sky), walking along incredible beaches (the water, like all water sin Australia, was stunning), and witnessing the most beautiful sunset at the aptly named Friendly Beach.
The rest of the trip was magical, restorative, and exhilarating. I saw amazing creatures of the earth I’d never seen before; I shrieked with joy while swimming in ice cold crystal blue waters; I was surrounded by boundless views with no buildings blocking the beauty of nature.
But most importantly, I reconnected with myself again. Spending time with Kazu, Satori, Otosan, and Okasan reminded me of why I took the risk of moving to Australia to start over despite having already established a pretty good life back in New York. Speaking with them about their dreams and ambitions reminded me that there’s no right way to have a career — in fact that only bad career is the one that you’re only doing to meet someone else’s expectations, ignoring your own. Being with them reminded me that pursuing your dreams and living life on your terms rather than those set by society (or your parents) is why we’re here and what makes it all worth it.
