What No One Tells You About Excessive Traveling

"Depending on whom you ask, there could be such a thing as too much travel." - Eliot Stein

I’m standing in the departures hall of Milan airport, staring up at the flight schedule.

For a few seconds, I have to focus — hard — to remember where I am and which city I’m heading to. I just can’t remember if my home town is Paris, Bucharest, or Punta Cana.

It’s disorienting, like a brief mental fog. It’s the same feeling I get some mornings when I wake up and have to piece together where I am, which country I’m in, and what “home” currently means.

It’s not jet lag. It’s not forgetfulness. It’s the long-term side effect of years of constant relocation — a kind of nomadic PTSD that blurs time, place, and identity.

When I tell people I’ve lived in 10 countries and visited over 40, their eyes widen:

“Wow, that’s incredible! You must have so many amazing stories!”

And yes, I do. I’ve seen sunsets that belong in paintings, danced in the streets to music I didn’t understand, and discovered flavors I still dream about. Travel has given me freedom, multiculturalism, and the ability to adapt anywhere.

But here’s what no one tells you about excessive traveling.

1. Travel Doesn’t Erase Your Problems — It Just Delays Them

When you’re on the move, it’s tempting to believe you’ve outrun your worries. But whether it’s an unpaid bill, a strained relationship, or an unresolved part of yourself, those problems are patient. They’ll wait for you. And sometimes, they’ll hit harder when you stop moving.

2. It’s Expensive — In More Ways Than Money

Flights, visas, housing, insurance — it adds up fast. But the real cost isn’t always financial. Constant relocation can drain your energy, your stability, and your ability to form deep, lasting connections.

3. Relationships Rarely Survive the Distance

Some friendships and romances can handle the strain of time zones, but many don’t. You become the person who is always leaving — and eventually, people stop trying to hold on. Loneliness becomes a quiet travel companion.

4. Instagram Doesn’t Show the Full Story

The glossy photos don’t reveal the missed buses, the meals you couldn’t stomach, the culture shock, or the nights you cried in an unfamiliar bed. Travel moments are often messy, exhausting, and far less glamorous than they look online.

5. The Culture Gap Is Real

No matter how open-minded you are, there are moments you simply won’t “get” — customs that baffle you, jokes you can’t translate, ways of life that clash with your own values. It’s humbling, and sometimes uncomfortable.

6. Home Becomes an Elusive Concept

After a while, you stop fully attaching to places or people. You learn to pack light — not just with your belongings, but with your emotional investment. And while that can feel freeing, it can also feel like you belong everywhere and nowhere at once.

Travel has given me so much: perspective, adaptability, and a deep love for the diversity of our world. But it has also taken pieces of me — my sense of rootedness, my definition of home, and at times, my identity.

I still love it. I still crave it. But I’ve learned that the life of a nomad is as much about loss as it is about discovery.

Because no matter how far you go, you always bring yourself with you. And that’s the one journey you can’t outrun.

Sarah the Digital GypSea

Romania, May 2024