I’m writing this from a little hostel in Turkey, ten days into what was supposed to be my big, post-high school adventure. Last year, I tried hiking the Pacific Crest Trail solo—spent 60 days out there, but the loneliness just got to me. I ended up heading home, feeling like I’d failed. I spent the next seven months in my hometown, throwing myself into hobbies and saving up for another shot at adventure. Now here I am, hopping from hostel to hostel, seeing some truly amazing places—bazaars full of spices, old city streets that look straight out of a movie. But honestly? Half the time I feel down, and I really miss the comfort of my own bed and the routine of home. I keep thinking about how everyone expects me to keep going, maybe head to Italy next for some woofing and bike packing. But part of me wonders if I should just cut this trip short, go home, and talk to someone about how I’ve been feeling before college starts. Has anyone else felt torn between pushing through the tough times on the road and just going home to take care of yourself? If you’ve ever been in a spot where the adventure didn’t feel as exciting as you hoped, what did you do? I can’t help but feel guilty for not loving every minute, especially after all the planning and saving. But maybe it’s okay to admit when something isn’t working. #travelstruggles #mentalhealth #homesick #Travel