It’s funny that Mustapha would suggest anniversary posts for I’ve been meaning to write this all month. It’s been exactly a year since I was taking selfies in Plaça Reial with friends who were visiting me during my 3 months in Barcelona.

When I was there, it felt like I was moving forward: it was enriching because it was all discovery and I don’t just mean the gastronomic hunts I planned every weekend. You’re not supposed to get a thrill out of doing laundry and making coca-cola-chicken-for-one on a Friday night but after 27 years, I was finally becoming an adult and I loved it.

TRUTH: I had wanted to leave Beirut after getting my Graphic Design degree but I had landed a job at Leo Burnett before graduation. With the job market being a disaster compounded with my dream of wanting to work for the big shots of advertising, I wasn’t going to be a hard-headed child just because I wanted out. “Give it a few years,” I said.

Four years and countless internal battles after that decision and I’m still here.

When I came back from Barcelona, hopping aboard the family empire cruise-ship was not the plan. I wanted the move again…out and away for a Masters. But the expansion of Wesley’s lured me into a shift in my professional plans instead of an expensive relocation for pricey higher education.

Back in Beirut, working, living, and breathing for the family, I feel I have taken steps back. I’m burned out every 75 days, shifting from extreme edginess to needing complete isolation. I cling to business trips or any excuse to escape yet feel like an ungrateful ass for ultimately feeling unfulfilled when it comes to my own development. This is not a problem considering what life can throw at you and there is no one to blame for this otherwise fortunate situation except myself; I made the decision to stay here every time I had the chance to leave.

But with every upcoming temporary departure, I write a post like this, or this, or this, praying that things will change while/as a result of being gone – be it a week or a couple of months. Upon arrival, I write another post like this, or this, or this, saying things are just as I had left them. I wasn’t fudging when I said this blog is a track record of where my head is at and I can see that a pattern has emerged.

Or maybe it’s a cycle that needs to be broken.

I’m going to New York tomorrow and I don’t want to keep writing these identical departure/arrival posts. When I was 8, I moved on from Chuck E. Cheez and became a frequent visitor of the Discovery Zone. I used to beeline to the plastic covered mountain that you had to climb – in socks – with only a rope as assistance. In elementary, I took after-school algebra. In middle school, I begged to be placed in advanced math classes and chose French class over art.  In IB, I chose the tough higher level courses even though I had no clue what university major I was hoping for. I endured 3 years of pre-med. Although I regret the French choice, I was never one to walk away from a challenge and I used to take pride in the fact that I was a dual-national who repeatedly decided to stay and fight the good fight.

I’m not proud anymore. The time has come to take advantage of my other navy passport and fight for myself instead.

Courtesy of Death to the Stock Photo

This post was brought on by Joe’s Box latest.

1. I write blog topics on small scraps of paper, Evernote, and my Apple notes app whenever a thought gnaws at me. Sometimes I’ll go back, read a note, and think “what was that supposed to be about?” I will either not remember what the heck I was thinking or read something indecipherable that I dictated to Siri in traffic. I have so many brain farts saved that make no sense but I keep them just in case the full thought resurfaces. I’m still waiting.
2. The most difficult part about pumping out blogposts is sitting down to write them. Starting a post means you’ve already gotten over the hardest hurdle but I’ve found collecting your content and jotting down notes over a few days helps streamline the final outcome.
3. I wish I blogged more often but if I’m not inspired to sit down to write them like I said above, the post will stay in the drafts and end up in the trash bin. You are only as good as your last blogpost. Quality versus quantity. I am my own rainbow. Slay.
4. I hate stock photography or using photos that I did not take myself but it happens. This may be because I’m a creative who enjoys dabbling with the camera sometimes so I feel like everything on my platform should be my own.
5. I spend a lot of time editing and re-editing blogpost drafts, especially when they’re about topics that I feel a sense of responsibility to do justice to. I worry about what I publish and put out into the world even if the only reader for the day is my dad who’s subscribed by email.
6. I’m not a cheerleader for brands I don’t believe in. Freebies and/or money be damned, my credibility matters.
7. Lebanon tends to be my main muse but I’ve been getting a lot of side-action when I travel. Seeing what the world has to offer has also made me see my Lebanon in a new and increasingly depressing light every time I return.
8. My topics feel repetitive sometimes but I like to reread old posts and see how some thoughts have changed and how much hasn’t. It’s like a journal only less emo. Sometimes.
9. When Nasri Atallah shared this post, I had the highest organic spike in blog views that resulted from one person’s share. The most viewed post to date is this one.
10. Nowadays, they say you should have a niche or category to cater to when you blog. I had no idea what I wanted this to be when I started and my first posts show that. Almost 5 years later and I still feel like this is me rambling most of the time but hey, I called it “Soapbox” for a reason.
11. Every time I hyperlink a word in a post, I feel guilty for taxing your mental processes and I’m comforted that tangible books will never do that to people when they read.
12. I can’t write a blogpost from my phone. I like the feeling of the keyboard keys under my fingertips.
13. I’ve admitted certain things on this blog that I had labeled to-the-grave secrets out of embarrassment/being too personal. However, when you throw them out into the abyss of the internet, it stops mattering as much. I appreciate raw honesty because of its rarity so practice what you preach?
14. Although I occasionally boost posts and share across my social media channels, I don’t care about my analytics or views as much as I care about my content.
15. I’m writing this while my mom does the dishes and every time a fork clanks onto the bottom of the sink, I want to scream. I don’t want to do the dishes though so I’ll slowly stew until I can go run off my edginess.
16. My post on 10 Architectural Wonders in Singapore still gets A LOT of views even though it’s over 3 years old.
17. The thesaurus is a blogger’s best friend but Google is a blogger’s best lover.
18. Sometimes, when I’m reading my own old posts I think, “holy crap, how did you write that?” in good and bad ways.
19. I HATE calling myself a blogger. Thinking of it as a job title makes me cringe. “I’m a blogger” makes me think of an excessively hairy dude who lives in his parents’ basement angrily publishing celebrity sleaze while selling collectible Happy Meal figurines on ebay. And he has a plumber’s butt and a pet turtle named Raphael.
20. My posts tend to get the TLDR reaction but that’s okay. People who are waiting at airport gates/doctor’s offices/an empty table of 12 know what’s up.

The other day, someone had asked me what I do for fun and I jokingly replied, “I blog, jog, and look up flights.”  When I stopped to think about it, I realized it wasn’t a joke. I’ve posted about the need to frequently travel in order to keep up morale in a draining country that takes its toll on your sanity. It’s a luxury I know, but work trips and breathers abroad have made adulting here a little more bearable.

Each trips’ afterglow lasts less time than the trip before and I find my Expedia’s scratchpad filling with destination options every week. I don’t book or confirm anything. I’m subscribed to Booking.com, Jetsetter, and other travel newsletters/blogs. Being bombarded by targeted ads that know I’m susceptible to DEPARTING FROM BEIRUT even though, when abroad, I’m a cheerleader trying to lure everyone into planning a visit to BEY.

It used to be that you would travel, return, and feel refreshed. Ready for another round after being up against the ropes. However, I return with pent up resentment and annoyance at the stagnation that is supposed to be home. I haven’t had a “it’s good to be back” in a while. Keeping my thoughts busy planning the opening of our new branch and my body exhausted via marathon training, I’ve come to terms with what keeps me here. It’s what has me rooted and hoping this place doesn’t burst into garbage-flames but those two halves of my life are also what distract me from the Lebanon-problems that are out of my control.

I don’t like being a downer and I don’t like myself when the travel bug starts getting under my skin. I do wish that it wouldn’t visit so often but maybe it likes the Beirut atmosphere more than I do lately so it’s been sticking around. Only time will tell.