A month away reminded me that growing up is not just about doing more, but learning when to pause.

I had not travelled outside the country since before COVID. That would make it about five years, which feels both impossibly long and somehow exactly how growing up happens. There is a kind of time warp that comes with being enrolled in university. You spend your late teens sprinting from classes to deadlines to part-time jobs, and suddenly, you are in your twenties, wondering when you last exhaled. 

That pause for me finally came this summer, when I spent a month in California. At first, a month felt like too much. I worried it would throw me off rhythm, that I would lose my momentum. However, it turned out to be exactly the pleasant break I did not know I needed.

Like a lot of us, I went from finishing high school and went straight into higher education, all within the peak of quarantine lockdown. When quarantine ended, life did not just “go back to normal,” it became busier. I started my bachelor’s, then went right into law school. The idea of free time felt like something you could only earn in theory. Even when I was not working, I was still thinking about the next thing to do, the next box to tick on my list. Which was why when I finally booked a flight I did not yet realize how badly I needed the distance.

California is not just a vacation spot for me, but it is where most of my family lives. I had not seen them since before the pandemic days. Every time there was a wedding or some chance to visit, school or work commitments always came in the way. However, this time, I was able to prepare to travel, instead of preparing a paper or project.

When I landed, I could feel my pace shift immediately. The days were slower, but not in a way that made me restless. It was the first time I experienced quiet without guilt. Mornings started with coffee and watching the fish in the lake behind my aunt’s house, instead of looking at my to-do list. Evenings meant dinners with cousins I had not seen since high school and retelling stories we were finally old enough to find funny. Being surrounded by family reminded me how grounding it is to be known by people who have watched you grow, not the version of yourself you curate in a student environment, but the one who existed before all the pressure.

It is strange how being older changes how you see family. At twenty-two, everything feels more fragile and precious, and I am sure I will feel this more so the older I get. You start realizing how much time has passed since your last visit, how quickly people age, how the little cousins are suddenly almost your height. Time does not slow down, but being there helped me notice it again.

This trip also marked my first time travelling alone. I was very nervous, but everything went smoothly. I know that flying alone is not a big deal to many people my age, but when one is doing it alone for the first time, it feels like a confirmation that you can handle yourself.

That independence followed me throughout the trip. I realized that so much of adulthood is learning how to take care of yourself without constantly needing reassurance. You start trusting your own judgment in small ways that add up by navigating, making plans and deciding when to rest. Those things sound simple, but they are the building blocks of confidence.

Spending a month away gave me space to feel my life instead of just moving through it. I went to places I had seen as a teenager, but appreciated them differently now. Doing this was more enjoyable while reconnecting with my cousins, which allowed me to reconnect with myself. There is something about being with family that recenters your sense of perspective. They care if you have eaten, if you are sleeping and if you are happy. That kind of care is grounding in a way grades can never replace.

Coming back was harder than I expected. The post-trip blues hit me like jet lag for the soul. I missed the routine of rest, especially the unhurried mornings. For a while, everything in my day-to-day life felt too fast again. However, now that the semester has started, I find myself carrying small parts of California with me. Whenever I start feeling overwhelmed, I think about that month and what it taught me about balance. Rest does not erase stress, but it makes it manageable.

I have realized that finding balance is not about escaping work but about remembering who you are outside of it. We often talk about burnout like it is an inevitable stage of success, but it does not have to be. Taking time away does not make you less ambitious. You cannot pour from an empty cup, and sometimes, you do not even notice it is empty until you step away.

That month reminded me that time does not slow down just because you are busy. The semesters blur together, and before you know it, the people you love have grown older, and so have you. The best thing you can do is pause long enough to appreciate it and to live in moments that are not measured by productivity.

When I look back, I am grateful not just for the trip but for what it represented. It taught me that growing up is not just about taking on more responsibilities, but also about learning when to step back. Travelling alone made me more self-assured. Spending time with family made me more grounded. These things reminded me that life outside of school still matters.

I am glad that my first real return to travel happened this way, surrounded by people who reminded me of where I come from and what really matters. Every time I start to feel buried in deadlines or pressure, I remind myself that I have been here before, but I also know how to breathe again.

My month in California was a reset button, which not only allowed me to feel rested, but ready to keep on pushing forward.