Most FAQ Answered (Pt. 4/5)
I've been traveling on my own for almost a year and a half now, which has led me to observe quite a few common assumptions I encounter upon people coming in contact with me and my current lifestyle. Here are the top ten in no particular order I thought important to share as well as shed some truth on the matter. They are broken up into five parts for length and convenience. Enjoy!
I DON'T WANT KIDS
If there is one phrase that is flung at a 32-year-old single woman the most, it is "the clock is ticking." I am routinely questioned about my relationship status, many with assumptions that I must be one of those "career women" who don't care to have a family -- or are too selfish to approach it. A life of solo travel must be a loud statement that "I don't need a man" and only crave one night stands or companionship that requires no responsibility. If not that, then I must somehow have a long history of broken hearts or possess some instinctive fear or hate of men. I must be broken in some way, have a problem or not be doing something right to be single. The fact that I have not encountered the love of my life is simply unbelievable for most. Impossible even. I'd like to take this as a compliment about my amazingness, but usually these assumptions bemuse and frustrate me. Of course I want children. I also desire a healthy relationship. One before the other, preferably. I think one of the most difficult parts of being a woman who strives to remain free at heart, whole and vulnerable, adventurous with (hopefully) a decent amount of wisdom to pass down to her children are these assumptions and time reminders. Thankfully, in New Zealand I lost my relationship with the pressure of time. I've forgotten. It is only others that remind me with their constant concerns and questions of "Why don't you have a man?" I don't know, I'll let you know when I meet him and hopefully it's when my clock is still ticking. Yeesh.
I AM A FARMER GIRL
Although I was called an "Australian Cowboy" upon my arrival at a dairy farm in France, I did not grow up in the country. I grew up in the wilderness of Alaska and then spent the other half of my life as a Los Angeles, California complain-when-it-rains city girl. Now with over a year of New Zealand farming under my belt (and a little in France), it is natural to assume I love the country. But as much as I would like to tote pride in mucking around with cows and other farm animals, I can't claim country/farmer girl as my true identity (anyone who has seen me back up a trailer would agree!). I think it is far more accurate to label me as a nature girl and animal lover with practical survival Alaskan tendencies and organic farming flirtations. All of this complexity allows me to do the constant city to country switch in my travels, although it does take at least two days to get my head on straight. It is quite the brain, body and attire twerk going from Paris cafes and art galleries to a caravan next to dairy cows mooing the midnight away, or 3am club nights at Notting Hill Carnival to the community night's entertainment of driving out to see if we can hear deer in heat in the woods (this was apparently the thing to do as we had about six different cars come to the same spot with a variety of patience to try and hear them). I'm simply trapped in the ability to adapt to all sorts of worlds and enjoy them for what they are, this makes me a chameleon far more than a farmer. Although I suspect the lizard finds it far easier than I to blend into its environment, particularly since it doesn't crave pedicures and facials whilst slopping around in gumboots and overalls.
