Taking a gap year in my thirties - the year after…
Hiking in the Ōtanewainuku Forest.
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I guess I’ve finally learned to cut myself some slack. Maybe sharing where I came from isn’t as important as knowing me in the present. The voice you heard through my words is finally speaking up without hitting the delete button a hundred times.
I came back to New Zealand a year ago today - it was a Saturday afternoon on a typical overcast day in Auckland. After spending almost a day on a plane, I was glad to be on my feet again, even if it was to wait in line at customs. The customs officer was impressed by how clean my hiking boots were and even questioned if I had even used them. I assured him that I had actually hiked several mountains with them. After fifteen minutes, I was once again officially back on New Zealand soil.
What have I been up to since? I’ve had lots of coffee catch-ups, weaned myself off siestas, talked endlessly about the amazing food in Perú, competed in a running event, hiked plenty, dated some, found a full time job, and currently living through a pandemic. It’s been a busy year. I guess I’m not really one for sitting still. Well, except for that time I was in hospital anyway.
Sharing my story at inspiring women nz 2020
How’s the book going? It isn’t. To be honest, even if I finish writing it, I’m not sure I want to publish it for a few years. Like a love letter to myself that I can look back on in years to come, to remind me of my more adventurous days when this body no longer climbs mountains as much as I want to. The photographs, the words, they’re all still there, safely tucked away up in the clouds.
I guess I’ve finally learned to cut myself some slack. Maybe sharing where I came from isn’t as important as actually knowing me in the present. The voice you heard through my words is finally speaking up without hitting the delete button a hundred times. I learned to say no. Then I learned to say no without feeling like I had to justify it. It wasn’t like I didn’t care, I just got super clear about what I did care about.
The gravel road that leads to the car park and the start of the Ōtanewainuku Forest tracks.
Then, I found something I wasn’t looking for. In a package that was nothing like I thought I would want. It’s been slow, really slow, because it’s what I asked for. I like the life I’m building for myself, and if I choose to share that space, I want it to add value, not feel burdened by it.
We are constantly shedding layers of ourselves more often than we think, and it pays to question which parts of us no longer fit. What am I holding onto just because it’s always been there? Because it gave me a sense of identity? That’s the question that swirls around in my head a year on. Letting go has been beautiful, sad, tiring, invigorating and some days, the full spectrum of emotions. I finally understand what Alanis Morissette meant when she wrote ‘Thank You.’
Thank you silence indeed.
A year on from the gap year has made me even more determined to ask for better. From others, and especially from myself. After all, we teach others how to treat us and that’s why it’s important to know that no matter where you’ve been, we all deserve good in this world. Don’t settle for breadcrumbs - ask for the whole damn loaf fresh from the oven, and be bold enough to ask for butter too.
xo Ronna Grace
fivefootronna is Ronna Grace Funtelar - a thirtyish adventurer, graphic designer and writer.
A woman with a curious mind who lives for hiking mountains, outdoor adventures and eating pizza. She has a unique brand of optimism that is a combination of her great enthusiasm for life and cups of coffee during the day.