How I learned travel isn't the miracle answer to everything

Chapter 4: You need to do the inner work too

This is chapter 4 of my world travel love story. Thailand tempted me back, but this time, travel wasn’t the fix I truly needed.

If you haven’t read chapters 1-3, you can find them at Love at First Flight.

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Stepping off the boat at the Thai resort, the sun warmed my skin, as yogis and nomads sat at low tables, chatting over lunch. I expected the familiar bliss and connection to wash over me, just like before.

Three days later, I was crying in my beach hut, journalling until my pen ran dry and feeling worse than when I arrived. This was supposed to be my paradise—the place where I could heal. But this time, I felt like an open wound.

I had done everything “right”—paid off my debt, found a great new job, and returned to the one place where I thought I’d be happy. Yet here I was, more miserable than ever. What had gone wrong?

Back home

A few months earlier, I'd returned to London, still beaming from the joy I’d found in Thailand. Then, the chill of the winter air hit me.

It was January 2012, and Coldplay’s “Paradise” was topping the charts. Meanwhile, my own Eden felt distant.

At work, things seemed to be improving—my boss surprised me with a double bonus for my efforts the previous year. I was finally able to pay off the loan that had been hanging over me like a dark cloud. It was a relief, but my heartbreak still lingered.

With my debt gone, the pressure should have lifted, but it didn't. So, I tried to maintain the inner calm I'd discovered in Thailand by taking up yoga.

Me shortly after my return to London

Namaste... or nah?

At my local yoga classes, the teachers talked about opening our heart chakras. I was more focused on not snoring during the meditation.

Suddenly, chakras were everywhere. My flatmate suggested an online course to ‘align my chakras’ and ‘live more soulfully.’ She swore by it. I wasn’t convinced, but I needed a change, so I signed up. More soul, less shopping—sounded like a plan.

Turns out, chakras are like little spinning pinwheels of energy inside us. When they get stuck, you feel stressed, burned out and insecure. That was me in a nutshell. I hoped I could get my positive energy spinning again.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t just seeking balance on the mat. My job stress was still weighing on me, but I was about to catch a lucky break.

Manifesting a new job

One night over drinks, a friend mentioned a job opening. I remembered the oracle card I’d pulled during the lunar eclipse in Thailand, hinting at a new path. Could this be it?

One interview later, I had the job. This was the fresh start I needed.

But soon it became clear: new job, same burnout. Late nights, hunched shoulders and the return of insomnia, as my mind spiralled over imagined mistakes.

Even worse, London, the city I loved, started to feel like an audition for The Walking Dead. Every day, I boarded the train like a grey commuter zombie, mindlessly shuffling between work and home.

My career, shopping, movies—nothing gave me pleasure any more.

When the burnout became too much, I went back to the place I thought would revive me: Thailand.

Wherever you go, there you are

After a flight to Bangkok, then to Koh Samui and the ferry to Koh Phangan, I finally caught the long-boat back to The Sanctuary Thailand. It felt indulgent to be returning so soon, but if anything could restore me, it was this place.

One morning, I sat on the sand as the sun rose. But the dawn of a new day in this beautiful place left me numb. The waves rolled in, steady and soothing, yet they didn’t reach me. Even the rustling of the jungle leaves seemed to whisper comfort I couldn’t feel.

Sunrise at The Sanctuary Thailand

The yoga classes, the meditation, even the rocks that people had written heart-warming messages on—none of it could pull me out of the hole I was in. And I had no idea what to do.

Just when I was starting to lose hope, a conversation in a hammock changed everything.

Cute messages on a path close to the resort

A fresh perspective

The next day, I dragged myself to the resort’s restaurant and collapsed into a hammock. I tried to read my book, but my mind wouldn’t engage. Instead, I struck up a conversation with the guy in the next hammock. His name was Jamie, and he was there to give a talk.

The hammocks at the resort (on the left)

We chatted, and I poured out my frustrations—how stuck I felt, despite everything I’d tried. Jamie listened, then leaned over conspiratorially:

“What would you do if you were free to do exactly what you wanted?”

My breath caught in my throat. I knew the answer immediately, but I hesitated:

“Travel the world… but that’s not realistic. It’s too big of a change, too risky.”

Jamie smiled, gently challenging me:

“If you’re this unhappy now, why not take the risk? It can only be better, right? Anyway, I recommend not knowing what you’re doing with your life—it’s liberating.”

His argument was intriguing, but something stopped me from agreeing wholeheartedly. He then offered an invitation that was easier to say ‘yes’ to:

"I’m giving another talk in London later this month. I think it will help you. You should come.”

I knew I had to go. And as luck—or fate—would have it, his London event was just a few streets from my home.

Embracing my shadows

Back in London, Jamie’s words echoed in my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that his advice was exactly what I needed to hear.

I walked to Jamie Catto’s Transforming Shadows workshop, where about thirty of us gathered. He explained how we hide parts of ourselves to gain approval and promised to help us embrace our unedited selves:

“We can allow more of ourselves to be seen—good and bad. Life delivers what we need, and we can choose how to respond.”

One exercise had us writing down our inner monologue. As always, my inner critic was busy telling me I was “a failure” and “ruining everything.”

Then came the real challenge—we had to share it with the group. My hands shook and my cheeks burned as I clutched the words closed in my notebook. Could I really say these things out loud? I caught the eye of a woman with bright red hair, who looked equally horrified. She introduced herself as Sarah, and we agreed this was our worst nightmare.

As we heard others’ inner critics, I realised how similar our self-judgements were. Then came the twist—we had to repeat our monologues in a funny voice. I chose a cheesy game-show host declaring, “You’ve ruined everything!” as if I’d won a car. I saw people laughing and it made me smile too.

In that moment, I saw how ridiculous my inner voice was. Jamie was right: to know ourselves fully, we have to embrace the parts we don't like as much. My inner critic was just trying to protect me. Once I saw it for what it was, it started to lose its grip.

A different path

That exercise gave me a glimpse of what I needed to change. My search for happiness had been in the wrong places.

As I left the workshop, I realised it wasn’t about finding the perfect job or taking another trip. I had to face the parts of myself I’d been avoiding for years, maybe my whole life.

The change I’d been chasing wasn’t out in the world—it was within me, waiting to be unblocked, just like the chakras.

And I was about to learn that, even when we start to understand ourselves, some things will still resurface, demanding to be confronted once and for all.

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Read the next chapter of Love at First Flight here.

Have you ever gone back to something familiar, only to realize there’s more work to be done? I’d love to hear your thoughts and stories in the comments.