There’s something about my own mind that I genuinely hate. Something that has followed me around for years, regardless of where I’ve been, what I’ve accomplished, or what I’ve experienced.
It’s my inability to feel satisfied with the choices I’ve made.
My constant indecisiveness. My tendency to question everything, dwell on the past, and wonder whether I should have taken a different path.
In other words, it’s that never-ending belief that the grass is always greener on the other side.
And quite frankly, I’m fucking tired of it.
A Lifetime of Experiences, Yet Somehow Never Enough
I’ve spent a significant part of my life traveling around the world. I’ve visited places, met people, and experienced things that most people will probably never get to experience in their entire lives.
And today, I miss that life tremendously. Some of those experiences live on in my Memoirs of a Wandering Viking travel stories.
But here’s the ridiculous part.
Even when I was traveling, doing something that many people can only dream of, I often found myself worrying about everything I might be missing back home.
While exploring the world, I would think about how other people were settling down, building careers, getting married, and having children.
Was I falling behind? Was I wasting valuable years? Would I eventually regret not choosing a more conventional life?
And sure, those are legitimate questions. There are sacrifices involved in choosing a life of constant travel, just as there are sacrifices involved in choosing stability.
But instead of appreciating the life I was living, I frequently found myself preoccupied with the life I wasn’t.
Always Somewhere Else in My Head
And it wasn’t just about choosing between traveling and settling down.
Even when I was on the road, I struggled to appreciate where I actually was.
If I was in Thailand, I’d start thinking about Latin America.
If I was in Latin America, I’d miss Asia.
If I was in Africa, I’d suddenly want to be somewhere in Europe.
It was almost as though wherever I happened to be was automatically less appealing than somewhere else.
And the most frustrating thing is that I often wouldn’t fully appreciate a place until after I’d left it.
Only then would nostalgia kick in, reminding me of all the incredible experiences I’d had and everything I’d taken for granted.
It’s a ridiculous cycle.
I’m somewhere, wishing I were somewhere else. Then, when I finally get somewhere else, I start missing the place I just left.
What the fuck is wrong with that way of thinking?
The Fear of Losing What I Already Have
But there’s another aspect of this that I find perhaps even more disturbing.
Even when I’m somewhere I genuinely want to be, surrounded by people I love, doing something I enjoy, I struggle to appreciate the moment.
Why?
Because I’m already worrying about when it’s going to end.
And this doesn’t just apply to traveling or the places I’ve visited. It affects my personal relationships as well.
I can have a wonderful relationship with someone, whether it’s a parent, a sibling, a girlfriend, or anyone else who means something to me, and instead of simply appreciating the fact that they’re part of my life, I find myself worrying about the day when they might no longer be there.
If it’s a parent or a sibling, I might start thinking about the fact that one day they’re going to die.
If it’s a girlfriend, I might find myself worrying about the possibility of a breakup, even when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the relationship.
Or perhaps someone will simply drift away, circumstances will change, or life will take us in different directions.
Whatever the reason, my mind seems determined to remind me that the people I love aren’t necessarily going to be part of my life forever.
And here’s the really fucked-up part.
I can actually feel sad about losing someone who is still very much a part of my life.
Someone who might be sitting right next to me. Someone I have a perfectly good relationship with. Someone I should simply be grateful to have around.
Yet instead of appreciating their presence, I’m already imagining their absence.
The same thing happens when I’m somewhere I love. Instead of enjoying the experience, I start worrying about when I’ll have to leave.
It’s as though I’m experiencing nostalgia before something has even become a memory.
I’m missing places I haven’t left yet.
I’m grieving relationships that haven’t ended.
I’m worrying about losing people who are still alive and well.
And all of this is happening inside my own fucking head.
It’s almost as if I’m trying to prepare myself for the inevitable disappointments and losses that come with being alive.
But instead of protecting myself from future pain, I’m creating unnecessary suffering in the present.
I understand perfectly well that nothing lasts forever. People grow older, relationships change, and life is unpredictable.
But why can’t I just accept that and appreciate what I have while I still have it?
Why does the knowledge that something might eventually end have to interfere with my ability to enjoy it now?
That’s what I find so incredibly frustrating.
Because when I really think about it, this isn’t just about indecisiveness, regret, or constantly believing that the grass is greener somewhere else.
It’s also about being unable to make peace with the temporary nature of life itself.
And this constant state of anticipation, dissatisfaction, and worry is becoming increasingly difficult to live with.
Sometimes I feel like I’m spending so much time worrying about losing my life as I know it that I’m forgetting to actually live it.
The Curse of Constantly Questioning Your Decisions
Looking back at my life, I can think of countless occasions when I’ve questioned decisions that were already made.
Why didn’t I stay longer?
Why didn’t I leave earlier?
Why didn’t I go to that country instead?
Why didn’t I take that opportunity?
Why didn’t I choose a completely different direction?
The problem is that these questions rarely lead anywhere productive.
Instead, they create an endless collection of imaginary lives, each one seemingly better than the life I’m actually living.
And that’s the trap.
I’m comparing my real life, with all its disappointments, mistakes, and complications, to hypothetical alternatives that exist only in my imagination.
Alternatives in which everything somehow works out perfectly.
But who’s to say those other decisions would have made me happier?
Perhaps I would have ended up asking exactly the same questions, only about a different set of choices.
Back in Sweden, Facing the Same Old Demons
Right now, I’m back in Sweden, and I can’t say I’m particularly happy about it.
I’ve recently come out of a failed business venture, and things aren’t exactly looking bright.
Quite the opposite, actually.
I’m feeling frustrated, disappointed, and uncertain about what comes next.
And naturally, my mind has returned to its familiar habits.
I start thinking about the places I’ve been, the life I used to live, and all the decisions that might have brought me somewhere different.
Maybe I should have stayed abroad.
Maybe I should have made other choices.
Maybe I should be somewhere else entirely.
There it is again.
The fucking grass is always greener on the other side.
When Nothing Ever Feels Good Enough
I realize that I’m probably not alone in thinking this way.
Most people occasionally wonder what their lives might have looked like if they’d made different decisions.
That’s perfectly normal.
But in my case, it sometimes feels extreme.
It’s not simply a matter of occasionally regretting something. It’s a recurring sense of dissatisfaction that follows me from one situation to another.
And it can make life incredibly exhausting.
Because how are you supposed to enjoy what you have if your mind is constantly reminding you of everything you don’t have?
How are you supposed to appreciate the present if you’re always mentally living somewhere else?
I know I’ve been fortunate in many ways. I’ve lived a life filled with experiences, adventures, and opportunities that I wouldn’t trade away lightly.
Yet somehow, I still manage to focus on what might have been.
And that’s something I desperately want to change.
Learning to Live With the Choices I’ve Made
I wish I could end this article by telling you that I’ve figured everything out.
That I’ve finally learned to appreciate the present, stop questioning the past, and make peace with the decisions I’ve made.
But I haven’t.
I’m still struggling with it.
Maybe the answer is learning to accept that every decision comes with a sacrifice. That choosing one path inevitably means leaving another unexplored.
And perhaps the most important thing is realizing that an alternative life isn’t necessarily a better life.
It’s just a different one.
I don’t know exactly where I’ll go from here, whether I’ll stay in Sweden or eventually find myself on the road again.
What I do know is that I’d like to reach a point where I can actually appreciate wherever I happen to be, without constantly wishing I were somewhere else.
Because at the end of the day, what’s the point of spending your entire life chasing something better if you never allow yourself to enjoy what you’ve already found?
And what’s the point of having something wonderful in your life if you’re so terrified of losing it that you can’t appreciate it while it’s still there?
Maybe the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Maybe I just need to stop looking over the fucking fence — and learn to appreciate what’s right in front of me, before it’s gone.