Coming Home

I have always sought out adventure. When I was a child, I would say I wanted to be Indiana Jones when I grew up. When it came time to grow up, I studied International Development at a Business school… very practical. When I graduated with my ‘explorer degree’, it was no surprise to my friends and family, when I decided to pack a bag in search of adventure. I found it.

My travels took me all around the world. I fell in love with the waves in Byron Bay, Australia, and then deeper in love with the ocean once I discovered the Great Barrier Reef. My relationship with the ocean grew stronger still through my Divemaster training in Gili Air, Indonesia. But what next? Mountains. I travelled all over New Zealand, whispering to the wise mountains in Queenstown. And of course, I let my legs take me to Goa India, where I surrounded myself in yoga, inviting it to take over my life. All of these experiences have shaped me to who I am. There are countless stories to tell about the world. But these are stories for another day. This is a story of coming home.

After spending more than two years on the road with like-minded explorers, discovering new places and experiences, acclimatizing to busy Toronto did not come easy. I felt like an outsider in this business driven organism. Everything seemed to move so quickly around me, not feeling like I had a place here. There were no oceans or mountains to be seen and winter had never felt so cold. Even though I felt rejected by the city (or perhaps I rejected it), I felt a calling to stay.

I spent my time reconnecting with friends and family. Discovering hidden neighborhoods and communities in the city. Taking on new interests and skills. Still, I felt restless. My feet that were used to wandering, it was a struggle to find peace in just being.

I spent more than a year bouncing around different industries and jobs trying to fit into a mould. Eventually, there was a long awaited break through. I stopped trying to fit into what I thought the city expected of me. Were these expectations put on me by society, or myself? I embraced what made me different. I stopped comparing and judging myself for how I wanted to live my life. I started cherishing the adventure that every new day could bring.

Letting go of my own expectations of what I was supposed to be, has not been easy. However, being vulnerable by living my life the way I wanted had never made me feel more alive. It has never been about where I am, rather who I am. I am Becki. In grade four, I chose to no longer go by Rebecca, as I had three other Rebecca’s in my class. I wanted to stand out. Not only did I choose to be called Becky, but to be the only ‘Becki with an ‘I’’. That is still who I am.

I am still an explorer, regardless of my geography. I thrive in the energy of the city, yet love to unwind getting close to nature. I love coffee and wine, and to 'stop, drop and yoga’ everywhere I go. I am a yogini, a dog-mom, a sister, a daughter, a friend and a loving partner. I wake up each day, and relish what the world has in store for me. I now realize that coming home was actually the beginning of a new adventure, a chance to find myself. I will follow my heart, and wander where it takes me.