You Can't Outrun Doubts

Palermo was my first stop — the gentle beginning of shedding my old life. It wasn’t a dramatic transformation, more like quietly acknowledging that one chapter had closed and another was beginning. I’ve never believed in the idea that starting anew means abandoning everything from before. Naturally, my husband, my friends, my family, my sustainable lifestyle, my love of reading and writing — all of that comes with me into this next phase.

But Palermo reminded me there were still things I needed to face.

For the past five years, I’ve been the emotional caretaker in my circles. During the pandemic, I noticed I was the most mentally and emotionally prepared for the chaos that unfolded. I’ve always loved empowering others to take care of themselves, and I can easily sense people’s insecurities. Many wear them right on their skin, and when I care about someone, I can’t help but see them clearly.

Somewhere along the way, though, I began giving more than I received. I kept showing up — finding community, supporting friends, maintaining my sustainable routines, keeping it all together — while others couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do the same. That imbalance slowly turned into resentment. Then resentment turned into anger.

My therapist once told me that I have to accept that not everyone will meet the same standards I hold for myself. And yet, here I am in Palermo, realizing that anger still lingers. It finds me when I’m alone. I’ve cried more than once in my Airbnb, journal in hand, trying to understand and release it. It’s a humbling reminder that I still have work to do — to forgive, to let go, and to be kinder to myself.

This anger has even seeped into my work. As a consultant, I’ve been fortunate to work with many inspiring clients, but I’ve also encountered those who resist change. They want their problems solved without altering a single thing about how they operate. That can be maddening. I don’t take it out on them, but deep down, I know I’m nearing the end of this chapter too. Maybe I have a year left in me as a creative consultant — because day after day of guiding people who refuse to grow is exhausting.

Still, being in a new city helps. Palermo has a rhythm that soothes. I walk for miles each day, breathing in the salt air, letting my thoughts settle. I remind myself that it’s okay to feel frustrated, to feel angry — emotions pass when you give them space.

This experience has taught me something important: spending a year abroad won’t make your problems disappear. It simply gives you a new landscape in which to face them — and, hopefully, to begin finding your way through.