I always share the highlights of my travels on Instagram. People are often impressed, jealous, or admire what I’m doing. But as you can imagine, there are also downsides. Still, I hold myself back from often sharing these things. In reality, when people meet me, I am the opposite—often not afraid to be vulnerable—but putting these stories on the internet makes me scared of receiving judgment. However, I realized I have to overcome this fear to keep my blog authentic. So, in this blog, I will open up about how I’ve recently felt, which, to be honest, hasn’t been my biggest highlight in New Zealand so far.

Last week, I had a mental breakdown in the hostel bathroom. Life felt like too much, and I was completely overwhelmed. In those moments, everything seems unbearably heavy. But today, I did some reflecting and realized how well I’m actually handling this adventure and how hard I can be on myself for trying to push those feelings away. I should let myself feel this way sometimes if I need to. These feelings deserve to exist. Pushing them away is not going to help me process them.

Since arriving in New Zealand, I’ve been in high-energy mode. Thriving on my independence and chasing dopamine has carried me through most days, and for a while, it felt amazing—like I could handle anything the world threw at me.

I had to arrange a lot after my arrival: sorting out car administration, a bank account, a new phone number, a tax number, etc., and from the moment I decided to leave my job, I’ve been moving from one place to another. The last two months have been incredibly intense, and I adapted really well—until I didn’t.

After my first chaotic month, I arrived at the hostel in Auckland two days before Christmas, and for the first time, I started to feel like myself again. I had fun. I met amazing people who became my friends, and I decided to stick around in the area for a while. My friends and I went to different beaches, I took dance classes, and I had endless social interaction. It brought me back to the shameless, carefree version of myself that I used to be at 16. Life felt great, and my FOMO went through the roof because I didn’t want to miss a single moment. I just wanted to create as many memories as possible.

After New Year’s, I decided to volunteer at a retreat. I needed to leave my comfort zone, and this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up—I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t at least give it a shot. I’m interested in spirituality, so I felt this place could bring me a lot. I met wonderful people there, something I’m really grateful for. The work didn’t fulfill me, though, and I never really felt at ease in the accommodation that was provided to me. Almost every day off, I’d find myself driving back to Auckland to spend time with my friends. Eventually, I left the retreat earlier than planned because the living circumstances weren’t working for me. I went back to the city, and two days later, my friends and I went on a trip to the Bay of Islands.

We had a great time. We went to our first surf class, which included a lot of sand and salt water, and we did an incredibly beautiful boat tour to the Hole in the Rock (the typical tourist excursion in the area).

This trip with my friends was the end of a chapter, because after returning from the Bay of Islands, I stayed one more night in Auckland and moved on by myself to make my way back to the South Island.

If I’m honest, I wouldn’t change a thing about my time in New Zealand so far. It’s been chaotic but amazing. I am aware of the moments where I might have handled things differently. But we always look back at situations wishing we could change stuff. I feel that every time I found myself in a difficult position, I handled it the best way I could, and I have to acknowledge that for myself.

Leaving Auckland was necessary—it was time to take myself on a road trip. I’d grown attached to the people around me, becoming too comfortable, which meant I stopped growing. I knew it was time to explore. With only a few days left before starting my new job, it was now time to see the North Island.

But on day two of my road trip, it hit me: Where was my energy? My strength? My independence? Why did I feel so weighed down? The pressure I put on myself to check off all the highlights only made it worse. I was so aware of what I’d left behind—comfort, friends, familiarity—and all I saw ahead was more exploring, more change, and more adapting. And I’m tired of it.

The result? Overwhelm. Exhaustion. And the worst part—falling into an old pattern, overeating, to cope.

At those times, it’s hard to be gentle with myself. And reflecting in these moments can be hard. Even though I found myself in this position, I handled it really well. I still did a bunch of activities that I wanted to do, even though I had to push myself a little at times. If I hadn’t done them, I would have regretted it a lot.

On day four of my trip, I lost it. My mind shifted to the negative side. I wasn’t in the mood to do anything, and from a young age, I’ve gotten so mad at myself for not being productive. Especially in the position I was in now—limited time to explore but no motivation or energy. It created a huge inner conflict. I stared at Google Maps all day, thinking about what to do, but I didn’t proceed to take action. Meanwhile, I was constantly eating snacks out of boredom. My mind was longing for my life in Christchurch so badly. Just thinking about riding a horse made me believe it would solve all my problems. I’m sure only the horse people reading this will understand, but just imagine that riding a horse is, for me, like how alcoholics drink a glass of wine every afternoon. Horse riding is my wine.

My thoughts hit me a little too hard in the afternoon. I locked myself in the toilet, crying. No, there was no space left to reflect on what to do.

But there was a beautiful side to this shitty moment. While I was crying for what felt like 30–40 minutes in the toilet, multiple people asked if I was okay. Multiple times I responded with, “I will be.” I just wanted to be left alone, but the third person was committed to helping me, and she knew how to get me out of the toilet. When I came out, she hugged me for a while. For real, I was so embarrassed. But living in a hostel means two things: you don’t have ANY privacy, and second of all, we are all travelers, and I’m sure we all have these moments. This girl who was there for me invited me for a walk, and so I went with her. This definitely distracted my mind at that moment.

The days after, I slowed everything down, trying to find a balance on my road trip. The accommodation I booked for my current last days provided my mind some peace that it desperately needed—a calm area to recharge and focus on self-care before moving to the new chapter. Tomorrow, I will take the ferry to the South Island of New Zealand, and I’m incredibly excited to settle into my new job at Christchurch Icelandic Horse Treks. It has felt like the finish line this whole period.

Thank you for reading this.
Lots of love,
Cecile