A year ago today, I turned in my resignation from my full time job in Kuwait. Five months later, I packed my whole life in a suitcase and a couple of boxes, and hopped on a plane back to the motherland carrying a non-existent back-up plan and “savings” that lasted barely a month. WHEW!

Now, hold it. Before I get you hoping this is a success story kind of post — IT’S NOT. At least not in a traditional, society-approved sense. There won’t be a line here where I’ll say I’m exactly where I want to be and that I never considered going back. Nor that I’m suddenly filthy rich and famous, so quit your job and follow me (WOULDN’T THAT BE GREAT).

Nope. Because here’s an update: I’m still unemployed and without a single source of income.

I made this decision; went through personal hell trying to stand by it; and today I have absolutely nothing to show for it. Sometimes – a lot of times – I feel convinced there’s no getting back up from this.

Do I think it’s a poor decision? Afraid so.

Did I F this up? From every angle.

Do I regret it? Not for one second.

I can’t lie, I toy with the idea of getting a job and having another go at being successful by society’s standards, almost every other day. I’ve since accepted a couple of gigs I can do from home, but eventually gave them up because both jobs resembled the life I just barely crawled out of.

Truth be told, there are things I miss about that life — frequent fast-food runs, midnight order-ins, RAISING CANE’S, trips to places of my dreams, money to afford me said things. Not to discount the important stuff like stability, security, immunity from being chastised for not having what it takes to win the rat-race (heaven help me).

While I’m thankful I once had easy access to things that help me survive — deep down I knew I wasn’t supposed to just survive. Day in and day out, I would wrestle with the voice that always said there’s got to be more to life than just constantly needing to escape it. If only I’d listen.

So I tuned in. And my life was never the same.

I’m not where I once hoped I’d land at this point in my life, but this here feels every bit like where I’m supposed to be.

This is not a success story — not by a long shot. But it sure is mine. And it’s far from over.