This is personal. It wasn’t born to be a cooperative article or whatsoever. This was born from sitting two days between thoughts. I feel to share it because I’m sure I’m not alone with this. It’s about my way of seeing things. About travel, being a traveler, a music sharer, maybe a missed musician – being passionate and trying to bring these passions closer to people. It’s about my belief of thinking of being able to take an unicorn out of a banker’s mind. To bring this people closer to a more playful life. Trying to show them that it’s not only shades of grey. Because I see it differently. This post is about me. Bohemian: a word in temporary use for a lot of people. A way of life for others.

You should listen to this while reading. It’s what actually inspired me to write the whole post.

I’m might being metaphoric on this, but let’s say that my number of friendships shrinked from 100 down to 10. A couple of years ago this was quite different – I had a lot of people surrounding me that shared (or I thought they were) my ideas. Going out for a travel, combine travel and a music venue, basically the stories I’m telling you here on this blog, were a cool thing for all of them.

It usually started (and sometimes still starts) like this: they meet me, my hunger for seeing foreign places and my knowledge about festivals and it’s something overwhelming, I’m cool. My ideas about music and my constant playing of DJ sets at home while sipping a good wine are apparently gorgeous. They’re in with everything. Let’s go, do, explore, wander, listen, dance. Alright, Be. My. Fucking. Guest.

Seriously, let’s do this. I’m a sharer: it starts with a simple meal I can throw in the middle of the week, to an invitation to a party you might never heared of, to telling you my deepest thoughts without thinking if it’s really appropriate or not. I’m feeling good with you, you get me – the whole package with no hidden shit, the genuine person.

This is usually the start of a great friendship. They share it all with me: the riverside coffees, the travel plans, the talks. “You’re the definition of freedom – that’s how life should be lived” was told me once. Or “Oh my God, I totally feel you, I’m the same”. Then, the years pass, people change, people GROW.

Define the word GROWING. Now! Please! Apparently I didn’t GROW for many, because I didn’t achieve the following things: a fat bank account, a husband/stable boyfriend, a dog, a child or two, a fully paid house, a leading position in a company (what you should at least have done as a single woman to show others that you’re AT LEAST able to GROW into your job).

So I can’t check any of the above points. While everyone else does, things turn to sentences like this:

“You’re still planning to travel more? Don’t you think you should stop? You’re almost 30.”

“You should save some money instead of buying plane tickets”

“From what are you escaping?”

“I don’t get you’re way of life, you should slowly start to grow up”

“Get a stable life.”

(The list is long. Let’s stop here.)

Really? Should I? My way of life was apparently ok a short while ago for you. Now somebody here and there achieved one or more of the society goals that define a life as complete (high five, I’m happy for you!), so mine turns into “Please, Grow up. What are you doing? You’re irresponsable little thing, you!” I’ve only experienced a handful human beings not saying this to me. The judgemental part is something I can try to handle, persons are different (or turn different), so not everybody is into your state of mind. I get that.

The harder part is seeing them disappear… With no reason, no explanation, without waving goodbye. Gone. Because bohemian doesn’t fit into the “normal” daily routine. It was nice joining a couple of your rides, but you know, you’re standing still and I’m not,I moved into grown up land. Or Because a blog is unstable. Because getting inspiration out of places or a song line is teenage shit. The mistake I do when all this happens is looking for  something I could have said or  have done wrong. It takes me a lot of time to tell myself that it’s not me and that I should get over it. I waste way too much time into the overthinking part. When I see the years pass and no reaction, I would like to pick up my phone and ask you what’s the point. But I’m afraid of rejection or worse, of any type of angry reaction, so I leave this type of idea immediately. But the person never leaves my mind…

See it however you want. I won’t be more careful with people I’ll meet in the future. I’ll probably keep on sharing my wines, songs and travel tips – I’ll try to be pleasant and a good one, I’ve never been good in hurting people anyway. I’ll always believe to be able to move something into them with all my being and my passions.

I’ll keep on being bohemian I guess.

I’ll keep on wearing flattering dresses in August and my wrecked up boots during winter.

I’ll keep on taking photographs and post them here.

I’ll keep on selling half of my closet if this brings me a plane ticket.

I’ll keep on wanting to be as local as possible when I hit a place.

I’ll keep on exchanging with people.

I’ll keep on chasing sunsets on beaches.

I’ll keep on writing down a great lyric and share it with you.

I’ll keep on trying to bring you with me on these journeys. 

I’m sorry if you see this as the ultimative not realistic hippie shit. So dear friend:

To the past one: it was nice having you here, be safe. The bohemian was a temporary, nice, trendy definition for you.

To the present one: you’re here and I love it. So I hope you’ll stay, forever.

To the future one: if you hit my heart, you know now what to expect.

Live you’re life as you think it’s right. But don’t point out your finger on mine. Because it feels good to me. It’s what I am.

That doesn’t mean I’m not in need of stability. It’s one of the things that give me stability, while I’m waiting for other stable parts to join this lifestyle. But you’ll never hit the bohemian out of me. Never.

Yours, truly, the Bohemian. Stella.

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