Nobody warns you that the biggest culture shock won’t hit when you arrive in a foreign country—but when you return from it. The truth is, there’s a special kind of disorientation that comes not from tuk-tuks and fermented fish paste, but from standing in your own kitchen wondering why the kettle boiling feels… pointless.

Welcome to the post-travel identity crisis.

For me, it began in Cambodia. I was in a dark place, still gripped by childhood trauma, spiralling through promotions that offered less control and more stress, and deeply entangled in the story of victimhood. But in Cambodia, I met survivors of the Khmer Rouge—people who had lost everything and yet welcomed me into homes with barely a mat and a stove. They shared the little they had with no expectation of return.

And something inside me shifted. For the first time, I realised that despite my pain, I had so much to be grateful for. That trip cracked something open in me. But it was Sierra Leone that broke me wide open.

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The Joy That Undid Me

Sierra Leone brought a different kind of awakening. There, I saw poverty unlike anything I’d witnessed before—gut-wrenching, raw, and ever-present. And yet… I was met with laughter. With hospitality. With inspiration. With the kind of stories that make you rethink your entire life.

The bucket shower I’d initially mocked became a luxury by the end. And when I came home, everything felt… wrong. The “normal” that once defined my days now felt shallow. When my husband suggested a VIP cinema trip, I couldn’t stomach it. The price of those two cushy seats could send a child to school for a year. I couldn’t un-know that.

And that’s when the real culture shock hit: when home no longer felt like home.

When Your Own Culture Feels Foreign

Returning from Sierra Leone, I found myself allergic to first-world problems. The Wi-Fi being slow and the dishwasher needing emptying? Tragic. Your Uber took a slightly longer route? Devastating. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop converting every purchase into “how many kids could that send to school?”

I even suggested we save water by switching to bucket showers at home. (It was a hard no from my husband!)

But the real mismatch wasn’t in the shower—it was in my soul. At work, I was still the overachiever. Still chasing success. But suddenly, I didn’t believe in the kind of success my job was selling. I’d outgrown the metrics, but I was still shackled to the system.

I knew something had changed. I just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Shedding Skin, Losing Friends

That’s the messy part of transformation: it’s not tidy. It doesn’t arrive with a manual or a Pinterest board of what your “aligned life” should look like.

I found myself seeking deeper connections—often not with existing friends but with strangers. I once sat on a piece of cardboard with a homeless man to share lunch and stories. I started asking questions I never had time for before. And I started to realise that the people who had truly shown up for me in my darkest hours? They mattered more than anything. But I also realised… I had less in common with some of them than I’d thought.

I came to understand something few people talk about: Sometimes love isn’t enough to make a relationship work. Despite all the affection I had for my husband—my rock, my saint—our futures were pulling in different directions. That was the hardest truth to swallow of all.

So I let go. Of the marriage. Of the house. Of the Cotswolds’ life that looked so shiny from the outside. Because while I couldn’t yet define the life I wanted, I knew that one wasn’t it.

Identity Crisis: A Common Souvenir

And here’s the thing: I’m not special. So many travellers return home with this gnawing sense that something doesn’t fit anymore. It’s not just jet lag—it’s a misalignment of soul and system.

Some feel guilty for wanting more when they already have what society deems “enough.” Others feel lost because they’ve glimpsed a new version of themselves—and have no idea how to introduce her to their old life.

You’re not broken. You’re growing.

And maybe you’re afraid that your desire for change is selfish, naive, or foolish. Maybe you think you’re chasing greener grass. But if your gut is whispering, there’s more, listen. That whisper is your compass.

Turning Crisis Into Catalyst

Cambodia helped me heal. Sierra Leone helped me see. But solo travel? That gave me the courage to leap.

I didn’t have a business plan or a backup salary. I had a dream—and the knowledge that I would always regret not trying. So I jumped. I applied what I’d learned in the corporate world to something with purpose. I joined webinars. I hired coaches. I built something that aligned with my values.

I redefined success. No longer “how much can I earn?” but “whose life can I help change?”

How to Keep Your Travel Self Alive at Home

Here’s the secret: You don’t need a passport stamp to hold onto your travel self.

Ask yourself—what set your soul on fire abroad? If it was the people, start there. Talk to your elderly neighbour. Ask the Big Issue seller about their life. Don’t just see people—know them. That’s where the magic lives.

If it was the “difference” you loved—seek it out at home. Attend cultural festivals. Eat in family-run restaurants you’ve never noticed. Join communities that challenge your perspective.

Transformation is available everywhere. You just have to be intentional enough to notice it.

Feeling Lost? That’s Okay Too.

If you’re back home and feeling completely out of sync, take a breath. Sit with your discomfort. Let the thoughts play out. If they lead you toward change—great. If they remind you that what you have is enough, just seen with new eyes—that’s great too.

Not all transformations demand you burn it all down. Some just ask you to look again.

And If You’re Craving a Shift…

…come with me. Not just to see the world—but to feel it.

The tours I run aren’t about ticking boxes or collecting Instagram likes. They’re about real connection. The kind that makes you question the media. The kind that shows you the truth behind the headlines. The kind that, months later, makes you say that trip changed something in me.

I’ve seen the penny drop in guests again and again—some realised their purpose, some fell in love, some simply fell back in love with themselves.

Transformation isn’t a guarantee. But it’s very likely when you travel with intention, when you meet incredible humans, and when you step outside your comfort zone—just far enough to see yourself clearly.

And if you’re ready for that…

I’ve got a seat waiting for you.

Check out my available tours.