This Vacation is Making Me Miserable

January 3, 2025–5:05 PM

Today is Friday, and I find myself in Kingston, supposedly on a mini-vacation. But here I am, counting down the hours until I can go back home. At first, I thought this trip might offer a little escape, a change of scenery — and for the first week, I guess it did. But now, I’m restless, irritated, and missing the sanctuary of my own home and the comfort of my personal space. It’s funny how you don’t always appreciate what you have until you’re away from it.

I’ve already told my dad I’m packed and ready to leave. Honestly, I’m just trying to endure these final days. The longing to return home feels like an ache in my chest, a pull so strong that I can barely focus on anything else. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something this badly in a long time.

Part of my frustration stems from the rhythm of this household. They cook maybe once a day, and that single meal is usually served around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. That’s it. No dinner, no snacks, just that one meal to carry you through the day. Tonight is Friday night, and deep down, I already know there’s no dinner coming. I tried to ask one of the girls if she was going out to get food, and her reply was a curt “I’m not buying any food on the road.” After that, I didn’t bother bringing it up again. What’s the point? When you’re in someone else’s space, you learn to pick your battles, and this is one I’m not willing to fight.

I’ve been making do with the little I have. On my first day here, I bought some ramen noodles for emergencies. Not even one of the shrimp-flavored packs I purchased is left, though. I’m almost certain her brother ate them. Moments like this remind me why I’ve learned not to complain about temporary inconveniences. Life has taught me that most hardships are fleeting, and it’s better to hold your tongue and wait them out. So, I’ve resigned myself to surviving on coffee, tea, water, and the last of the ramen. It’s not ideal, but it’s enough to get me through. I won’t starve. I’ll be miserable, yes, and maybe a little angry, but I’ll survive.

Despite everything, these moments of discomfort have sparked some introspection. I keep thinking about how much I’d love to lose 80 pounds. I’ve imagined myself thinner, lighter, and looking twenty times better. It’s not just about vanity; it’s about feeling more confident in my skin, more in control of my life. Maybe this frustrating trip is a blessing in disguise, a jumpstart to a healthier lifestyle. After all, the limited meals and the discomfort have forced me to reflect on my eating habits and what I really want for myself.

Sometimes, I dream of a life where I’ve got it all together — a good-paying job, my own car, and a house I can call mine. In that dream, I’m doing bulk grocery shopping at PriceSmart, filling my pantry with everything I need so I never have to worry about running out of food. But if I’m being honest, that dream pales in comparison to my ultimate goal: running my own successful business. I want so much more than a 9-to-5. I want independence. I want to be my own boss, to own vehicles, to manage projects that excite me, and to create a life that feels as good as it looks.

A big part of that vision includes looking and feeling better. I picture myself as this soft, rich girl — the kind of woman who carries herself with grace, who exudes confidence and elegance. I want to look at pictures of myself and feel proud, not repulsed. But then I wonder, will I ever be able to curb my cravings? Will I ever develop the discipline to lose another 50, 80, or even 100 pounds? Sometimes, even 25 pounds feels like an insurmountable goal. Yet, I can’t help but imagine how different my life would be if I could shed just 30 pounds. My hefty stomach wouldn’t weigh me down anymore, and I’d feel freer, lighter, and more vibrant.

These thoughts lead me to a deeper longing for change. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and find myself living a completely different life. I wish I was earning $4,000 USD a month, enough to live comfortably and invest in my dreams. I wish I had a strong support system — friends who genuinely cared about me, who invited me out to events and adventures every week. I wish I had a booming business, multiple projects under my belt, and maybe even a farm to call my own. I want to be that girl — the one who’s thriving, who’s successful, who’s living a life so full of purpose and joy that it inspires everyone around her.

But wishing alone won’t make it happen. Deep down, I know this. Change requires action, discipline, and faith — faith in myself and in the journey ahead. I’m not there yet, but I’m starting to see the path. It’s filled with challenges, yes, but it’s also filled with possibilities. And as frustrating as this trip has been, it’s reminded me of what I want and what I’m capable of achieving. Maybe that’s the silver lining I needed to see.

So, for now, I’ll drink my coffee, sip my tea, and get through these last few days. I’ll carry this discomfort as a reminder of where I don’t want to be and as motivation to build the life I’ve been dreaming of. Because at the end of the day, I deserve more. I deserve to be happy, healthy, and fulfilled. And I believe — even on the toughest days — that I’m capable of making it all happen.