The itch

If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably felt ‘‘the itch’’ before—that nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you just can’t scratch. The kind that makes you restless, uneasy with the idea of getting too comfortable. And the only way to make it stop? You leave. You move. You find somewhere new. You give in to the curiosity and adventure because that itch won’t let you sit still for too long. This is how I would describe the last four years of my life.

Restless

Sitting still was never my strong suit—neither was patience. My most vivid memory as a kid was being taped to a chair by my teacher because I simply wouldn’t stop moving. I think that tells you everything you need to know about my childhood. I didn’t like waiting for things, for people. Yet, as an adult, I’ve learned a very specific kind of patience. I can be patient—for my plane to arrive, for the Flixbus to reach its destination, and for the check-in at my next hostel. These are things I’ll gladly wait for.

These moments—these hours spent waiting—are my resting hours. It’s in those times that I can sit down, wherever I am, and take a breath. ‘‘Stop and smell the flowers’’, as they say. I used to be shit at that. I chose a life so fast-paced that I barely had any time to stand still and realize that I was finally living the life I hoped to live years ago.

Need for speed

As I mentioned before, I’m a glutton for punishment. I love the chaos, the constant movement of everything around me. Even though my mind can’t always keep up, I can’t help but feel at my best surrounded by it. The crowds, the music, the sounds, there was never a dull moment. It was when I became a bartender that I learned this was what I was meant for.

Coming from years of sitting behind a screen playing World of Warcraft—only leaving my studio for coffee and work—I never imagined that I was made for this. When I got my first bartending job in Paris, it was like a world opened up. Behind the bar, I was something else—someone else. Suddenly, talking to people was easy, and charming my way through conversations became second nature.

Like a dance

Serving over 500 people a night became the norm, and nothing could stop me from going full throttle. There’s something euphoric about the speed—the rhythm of pouring drinks and fucking around with friends. Bartending is like dancing, weaving between the other bartenders for the bottles and glasses, keeping an eye on the line while memorizing the steps of making the drinks. You become light on your feet, lost in the moment.

For the six months I was in Paris, I was happy. Learning the basics of bartending, building up my confidence behind the bar, making friends, and exploring the city. but no matter how good the moments were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed a change.

The grass is greener on the other side

Even though I loved my time in Paris, I was getting antsy, and anxious. I needed something different, a new adventure. I started to get good at chasing opportunities. Transferring to a brand new site of the bar I was working in sounded like the best escape I could ask for. Without hesitation, I stepped on a plane to Vienna to start my new job. More importantly, to start a new adventure. Little did I know that it was the start of my journey as a nomad.

The Art of being lost.

Nobody prepares you for your 20s. They tell you it’s the best time of your life, but they forget to mention the part where you’re broke, confused, and completely winging it. It took me a while to come up with a line that would blow you away and capture you to read this post. I came up empty, as you can see. I began, started overthinking, asked friends for help, and landed where you’re witnessing now—there isn’t a good way to start this. This is also how I would describe being in your 20s. A lot of overthinking, asking friends for help, and coming to the conclusion that there isn’t a good way to live this part of your life. So, if there isn’t a right way to live your 20s, why not live it all the wrong ways instead? Hell, there might even be an art to it.

Complete and utter chaos

To give you some context as to how my 20s have gone so far, I’ll give you a quick recap. From the moment the borders opened again during COVID-19, I got my vaccinations. I left my hometown in the Netherlands to go explore the world and see what’s out there. I lived in a couple of countries working as a bartender, met some incredible people along the way, made some questionable decisions, and learned that I am the absolute worst with money.

The last one is an understatement. I can’t even remember the number of times I’ve been on the verge of homelessness, feeling like a failure who just got lucky the first time. Or the number of times I had only a few euros in my account while in a foreign country. I would impulsively quit a job, like working at a resort in Greece only to quit after four days because the bar violated every health code known to man. To pursue other jobs or release myself from the bonds of boredom. As you can imagine, this doesn’t do wonders for your mental health, leaving me in a state of stress and questions I didn’t have the answers to. I’m only 25, but in those years, it is safe to say, I felt lost.

Silver linings and whatnot

Having said all that, It’s been an absolute blast. Granted, I’m a glutton for punishment. Being a bartender living the life I’ve been living, working long hours, and drinking during most of the shifts. I, and many others, are surprised I’m still alive and kicking.

But, because of this, I was able to live in amazing cities like Paris and Hanoi, and meet some crazy and amazing people that I still consider friends to this day. I was able to get some crazy opportunities that I would’ve never gotten otherwise, like moving to Iceland and spending 8 months in the middle of nowhere. I’ve slept in airports, taken countless time-consuming Flixbusses to save money, got into some weird relationships, and had embarrassing calls with my dad after 3 years of not speaking. But, it was all worth it.

At the end of the day

I’ll dive deeper into everything along the way, but hopefully this’ll give you a decent impression of what my life has been like so far. More importantly, what it’ll most likely still be in the near future. I didn’t make the right decisions, and I didn’t think through most of the things I was doing. Honestly, I still don't. But what do people always say? Your 20s are for making mistakes and learning lessons, right?

As I said from the start, there must be an art to all of this, an art to being lost. Having met a lot of people all over the world, I know for a fact that I’m not the only one. There’s a bunch of us out there, wandering this planet, waiting for lightning to strike us, giving us some grand answer about our life’s purpose. If we’re all lost anyway, we might as well make it worthwhile, no?