I booked a flight to Portugal.

(Big pause.)

(Really big pause.)

I don’t know what to say or how to feel.

Excited? Yes.

Scared? You bet.

It’s weird when you make a move that turns your world upside down. When you do it many times over, you’d think you’d get used it.

So far, I haven’t.

 

The history

If you know me well, you know my story. If not, here’s the CliffsNotes version.

Late last winter, I realized I wasn’t living like I wanted to be; that my life — to which I was so accustomed — could be different. In the following months, I made radical changes: divorced, sold or gave away nearly everything I owned, quit my 9-to-5 job and moved to Tennessee while I looked for a remote job I could do anywhere in the world — because I wanted to move to Portugal.

In some ways, this past year seems like a dream. In some ways, my entire life does. It’s like I watched a movie about it. Time has gone quickly, and yet slowly, too. I find it impossible to fully explain it.

And now, sitting in my inbox, is my itinerary to get to Portugal.

It’s very weird.

 

Why Portugal?

I always loved traveling. Each time I’d visit someplace, I’d think about if it was the kind of place I’d want to live. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I always said I wanted to go back to Paris when I could spend six months there. When people would ask me when I was going back, I’d say, “someday.”

Funny that I haven’t been back to Paris – yet. Between my six-month requirement and a timeline of “someday,” I had set myself up to never get back to Paris.

When I decided I wanted to live my life differently, I knew I wanted to live other places – not just visit. I felt like I needed to pick a spot, a specific location, so it wasn’t just wishy-washy, maybe-someday-I’ll-get-there fluff. Portugal was beautiful with lovely people. Despite visiting at the hottest time of year and getting a nasty migraine, I still loved Portugal. That’s why I picked Portugal.

 

Getting stuck

I felt stuck for much of my life. In high school, I had big plans. I was going to college, and I WAS NEVER COMING BACK. I’m pretty sure that was in all caps in my mind. However, I met someone, and wound up living in Wisconsin Rapids, an area I was so desperate to get away from. We raised our kids and talked about when they were out of the house, we’d move someplace warmer, at least. It was a good place to live, but it isn’t what I wanted.

It’s so easy to get stuck. It’s comfortable. As we say in Wisconsin, it could be worse. Even when it’s really bad, we still say that. “A tornado took out your house? It could be worse. If you’d bought that boat, it would be gone, too.”

I finally came unstuck. But it would be so easy to fall back into it. I’m living in a nice place now. It would be a good place to stay for a while. I could get a job here, if I wanted. Do whatever I want. And watch another 5, 10 or 25 years go by.

Even though it’s comfortable, it’s not what I want right now. I’ve told enough people – really anyone who will listen – that I’m going to Portugal.

I feel like I have to go – which was part of my reason for telling absolutely everyone. Public failure is not an option. If I don’t go, people might think less of me. I know my friends and family say that’s not the case, but I’d feel that way.

Part of going now is also the timing. As I tell people, my kids don’t need me; my parents don’t need me right now. I feel like I have a sweet spot, and if I don’t do it now, it might never happen. Then, I’d regret that.

 

Why now?

During conversations, people would ask when I was moving. That was trickier. Even my date for moving to Tennessee kept changing until I finally just picked one and stuck to it. (There were lots of things happening, and not happening, and falling through and changing, and not all of my own doing.)

Logically, I knew I had to have a remote job I could do anywhere in the world. How long would it take me to find said job? I’ve got great skills, but it’s not easy to get someone to notice you in a sea of 20- and 30-somethings. To actually move to Portugal, I’d need a visa to stay in the country. To get a visa, I’d have to show proof of income. Getting a visa can take months.

When I first came up with this plan, I’d say I would love to be in Portugal by December, no later than next spring.

December is here, and I’m in Tennessee. That left next spring to meet my timeline.

 

Cheap flights

I signed up for an email marketing campaign called Scott’s Cheap Flights. If you travel abroad at all, you should sign up. If you have the money or you travel often, spring for the premium package. You get emails alerts about cheap flights. It’s up to you to book it, but they tell you which airports and countries are covered for a range of prices and how long they think the deal with last – maybe a couple of days at most. If you pay for the service, you get notices about all the best deals. I know this, because I don’t pay for the premium package, and in every email I get, Scott’s team tells me about the sweet deals I missed because I’m not a premium subscriber.

Each time I’d get an email, I’d see if Portugal was included. It wasn’t, but lots of other places and very good prices for airfare were. Finally, I told myself, if I saw a flight from Atlanta to Lisbon for less than $600, I’d book it.

Probably a couple of weeks ago, I realized how close next spring actually is. Paying closer attention to Scott’s Cheap Flights emails, I realized they were booking for January through April. That’s spring. Could I get there by April 1?

I didn’t have an answer. While I have a part-time remote job I LOVE, it’s not quite enough hours to cover my expenses. I’ve also not been able to save the money I’d like to fully take the plunge and move.

But, my brain kept telling me, but. I kept coming back to that. All of it, coalescing.

 

Things fall into place

Sitting in a coffee shop Friday afternoon, I finished a long email reply to a friend. When I went to my inbox, there was an email from Scott telling me about flights to Europe in the $400s/$500s. I scrolled down. Atlanta? Check. Lisbon, Portugal? Check. Less than $600? Check.

I clicked the link, pretty sure it wouldn’t be suitable, probably restricted for a week of travel. I didn’t know. Playing around with the Google Flights calendar (cool tool, by the way), I realized I could travel during most of the spring for less than $600, choosing my dates carefully.

Still, I hesitated.

This would get me to Portugal. By spring. It would fulfill my commitment to myself. I wouldn’t regret not going. OK, there was the whole I don’t have enough money saved thing, but I have a credit card, if it came to that. If I buckled down and got another job, I could sock some away in the next couple of months.

It’s only 13 weeks.

And yet, it’s 13 weeks.

And if I really love it, I’ll find a way to go back and make it work. And if I change my mind – which I’ve been known to do – then I’ll be back in the states, and I can figure out where I want to go next.

I didn’t book the flight. I put it out of my head until after dinner, when I remembered and mentioned it to my sister. “Did you book it?” she asked. No, I said.

Later, as I was going to bed, I thought about it again. Why hadn’t I done it? What was I afraid of? Failure? Not going is a bigger failure in my mind. I wasn’t sure why I had hesitated.

My phone was by the bed, so I popped open the email and went to the link, telling myself as I did that if the flight was still there, I’d book it.

It was. I did.

 

So, I’m going

The 24-hour cancellation policy sealed it for me. If I changed my mind within 24 hours, I could cancel and get a full refund. It was after midnight, and I wanted some feedback from someone other than myself. Seems I’m still seeking permission or encouragement, even after all this.

Truthfully, I knew most of my friends and family would be encouraging. I couldn’t think of anyone who would say outright it was a bad idea. Still, I wanted some feedback. Sometimes, others will think of something you’ve overlooked or have an idea or suggestion you didn’t consider.

As expected, those I talked to were encouraging. A few had questions, but they thought I should do it.

So, I did. I kept the ticket. It’s sitting in my inbox, a reminder that I need to make some bigger plans now that I have a timeline. I’ll need to find a cheap place to live – maybe I can rent a room someplace. Start saving money. Buckle down on my website to get everything squared away. Look for another job. Double my efforts in learning to speak Portuguese.

It’s exhilarating. And freaky. I’m still not used to this. Maybe I never will be. But I’m going to Portugal.

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Be a Better Writer Tip

Write as long as you need to. As a journalist, I usually was writing short, aiming for 500 words or fewer. Often, a reporter’s first question to her editor was, “How many words do I have?” We got to know how to write to a certain length. Editors got good at cutting to fit.

But outside of journalism, you can write as long as you need to, or as short — which might be the hard part. But that will be good for another tip, or two!