The 4000km train journey

You see me here often. Sharing screenshots, wins, celebrations, & learnings from building the Generalist World community. But, that's only half the story. If you'd seen me a few years ago, you'd have seen a very different Milly. I want to acknowledge the space that existed between then and now. And, that's what I want to talk about today.

2020; a year that's etched into all of our memories as a cloud of confusion, uncertainty and, well, being at home. It was the year I found myself unexpectedly living in Northern Ireland, locked down, having just stepped down from my business in Australia.

It was also the year that I committed to unpacking a past deeply traumatic experience through intensive therapy. While everyone was baking banana bread and learning to crochet, I thought it was a good time to face my past demons head-on.

What I didn't anticipate was how debilitating the healing process could be. I went from a bright, confident, self-assured woman, to being crippled with an anxiety I had never known before. It engulfed me. Slowly at first, and then all at once.

Life's shadow became very heavy. Dark. Unshakeable.

And then began the panic attacks. My breath would disappear like a balloon deflating. There were a couple of times I was certain the next breath simply couldn't come. My husband would gently hold my face, "deep breathe in through the nose Mil, out through the mouth". But his face blurred, my hearing dimmed, the shadow took over.

His grace and patience with me in that dark time is a gift I'll never forget.

Simple things, like walking the dog by myself, felt like a marathon. I'd pass people in the street without making eye contact. By distancing myself from the world, I was giving myself space to feel. And frankly, it felt horrendous.

Carrying trauma is a bit like carrying a heavy bag of sand. If you can't unload it, you just get used to the weight. And when you finally do try to unload it, it takes a real burst of strength, courage and belief that you can. It took me many months to believe that I could.

As I write this, it's 2023. 3 years have passed in the blink of an eye. Life looks very different. Brighter, and lighter. I'm 9 months into building a business I absolutely adore. And recently, it afforded me a work trip to America.

It's the beginning of March, and I've just completed a one-month trip across the US, solo, by train.

When I see the girl of 2020 - scared, anxious, utterly convinced bad things will happen to her, it's almost unrecognizable to the women who embarked on the challenge of traversing 4000km by rail.

When I first stepped aboard my first 50+ hour train leg from San Francisco to Austin, I had a "wtf am I doing" moment. But I soon got into a routine.

Chatting with folks, sharing meals with people I never would have met, watching the sunset over the Pacific ocean. My subsequent journey took me through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Chicago, Missouri, Ohio, Boston and New York. 100+ hours. Multiple days turned into nights.

My train days were full. Daydreaming. Writing. Listening to podcasts. Discovering new Spotify playlists. Making friends with the man at the snack station who gave me free coffee refills.

My non-train days were full, too. I'd walk through these giant cities, an anonymous soul breathing in the dizzying lights, sounds, and people. Hosting meetups, recording live podcasts, getting in rooms I couldn't have dreamed of when I was growing up on the farm in New Zealand. I felt a world away from my panic attack days. I felt strong and capable.

I had some really testing moments on the train, too. Like being shaken awake at 3am by a US police officer demanding to see my visa. Or holding a tiny crying baby in the middle of the night, as his solo mother desperately tried to gather all their belongings. I called my husband more than once in tears, so ready to come home.

Honestly, it's taken years of hard self-work to get here. And some days I can be triggered right back to that place in the shadows. But the difference is, I know I've done the work. Countless hours of journalling, talking, therapy, learning, & hard conversations with myself and those closest to me. Even on the hard days, I know I can pull myself back to the light.

This trip was a pivotal point in the map of my life. It was the turn where I'd really found my feet. Where I knew I could navigate whatever challenge I came up against. I've got to say, I feel incredibly proud of this.

This trip, just like the year of 2020, will be etched in my memory. Something to look back on when I'm graying and tired, as one heck of an adventure. It was the trip that solidified that I can do challenging things. I was reminded of my resourcefulness, my ability to connect with folks from all walks of life, and my love of staring out a moving window.

It was the trip that showed me, how far I've really come.