I’ve been seeing a lot of posts lately from experienced digital nomads saying they’re done. Tired. Ready to settle down.
They talk about chasing freedom but finding emptiness. About running from problems instead of toward dreams. About realizing that family and roots matter more than they thought.
And here’s the thing, I get it. These are real experiences. Valid feelings. I’m not here to invalidate anyone’s journey.
But I’m also sitting here reading these posts thinking... am I the weird one?
Because I don’t feel any of that. At all.
The Trend I’m Noticing
One nomad I follow,
, recently wrote something that really stuck with me:“When I was younger, freedom felt like the ultimate prize. No boss. No routine. No limits. I wanted to wake up wherever I wished, open my laptop when inspiration arrived, and feel the world move around me without resistance.”
He goes on to say that freedom, when achieved, became “an empty stage.” That he wasn’t living free, he was running from himself. That every new country was just another place to set up the same internal anxieties.
His conclusion?
“True freedom begins the moment you stop running away from something and start moving toward something.”
It’s a powerful piece. Really well-written. And I think for a lot of people, it hits home.
But when I read it, my first thought was: “That’s not my experience at all.”
My Journey Started Differently
Maybe the difference is in how I got here.
My first escape, the real one, wasn’t the nomadic lifestyle. It was moving to Miami at the end of 2017 after Rosie and I experienced infant loss. I was clearly running away then. Away from the apartment where we’d prepared for him. Away from the environment. Away from people who were pregnant at the same time we were.
Miami was where we healed.
And that’s where something shifted for me. I started to see that I didn’t have to follow the traditional path everyone expected from me. I could run toward something. Toward my own dreams. Toward a life I designed.
When I embarked on the nomadic journey in 2021, I wasn’t escaping anymore. I was chasing freedom, but a very specific kind of freedom. The freedom to build the life of my dreams. To be in charge of my own choices.
Why I Made That Promise
In 2017, after we lost our son, I made a promise to myself and to him: I would live the best life I could possibly live.
Being exposed to death at 30 years old made me realize how fragile life is. Shit happens. Life doesn’t always work the way we plan.
For me, it was a massive wake-up call.
I decided to stop postponing happiness to some future date. I decided to stop living life on someone else’s terms.
That’s what’s been driving me since then. That’s my WHY.
And I think that makes all the difference.
The Polarization of Nomading
What I find interesting is how nomadism seems to become a love-it-or-hate-it thing after a while.
Most people only see the positives when they get started because it feels magical. But after a few months or years, that’s where people tend to “pick a side.”
They either love it: their body responds well, they find their rhythm, it becomes a real lifestyle.
Or they get disregulated to the point where it becomes unhealthy. Or they simply miss home and family and their old lives too much.
It’s hard to be somewhere in the middle.
In a previous newsletter Rosie and I collaborated on, we talked about how we’ve shared the exact same life for years, but our experiences and feelings are completely different.
Rosie’s been experiencing travel fatigue and burnout. She misses having her own space, her own soap, her own bedsheets. The constant packing and unpacking, the new environments every week, the never-ending stimulation: it’s been draining her nervous system.
And me? I’m thriving.
Why It Works For Me
I’ve spent a lot of time in my head thinking about this. Questioning it. Because when most people seem to be getting tired, and I’m not... am I missing something obvious?
But here’s what I’ve realized:
This lifestyle fills my cup.
It’s not an escape anymore, this is my normal life. It fulfills me in ways that a settled life never did.
I’ve learned that I get bored when I’m not challenged. This lifestyle - the travel combined with being self-employed - creates constant challenges that keep me stimulated. I’m always at the edge of my comfort zone, which encourages me to keep growing and expanding.
At the same time, I look after myself. I meditate daily. I question why I’m doing this. I don’t want to be delusional.
I check in regularly on how things are actually going. Last year, after 5 months in Mexico and 1 month in Costa Rica, instead of going to South America like we’d planned, we went back to Asia to slow down. I wanted to focus on work. I pay attention to how my business is doing, how my relationship with Rosie is doing, and how I feel. If this lifestyle stops working or stops suiting me, I’ll adjust.
The point isn’t to be attached to a specific destination or plan. It’s to have freedom and options.
But there are also some practical factors that make my experience different from many nomads:
I’m not alone. I’m doing this with Rosie, who’s not just my wife but also my best friend. We love spending 24/7 together and sharing these moments. A lot of people start the digital nomad journey solo, especially young adults who meet people in dorms but don’t build strong connections. That loneliness can wear you down over time.
I’m also a bit of a lone wolf. I love my family and friends, but I don’t feel the need to see them often. I’m fine with online exchanges. It doesn’t mean I don’t love them, I just don’t miss them enough to stop living this lifestyle.
Another factor Rosie pointed out: I’m a man, so I don’t go through a hormonal cycle every 28 days. I’ve heard other women mention this too, the monthly energy fluctuations make it harder to sustain intense travel rhythms. It’s a biological reality that probably gives me an advantage I don’t even think about.
Beyond these practical factors, there’s something else I’ve realized:
This doesn’t feel radical to me anymore. It just feels normal.
Another writer I follow,
, put it perfectly:“What was once radical has become normal: remote work and nomadism are part of the global mainstream, and more people see the world as connected nodes rather than fixed nations. The movement has succeeded so completely that ‘nomad’ as a label is dissolving into everyday reality.”
That resonates deeply with me. The label “nomad” sounds like someone living a sedentary life describing themselves as “sedentary.” You wouldn’t say that, right? Because it feels normal to you. It’s part of your identity.
That’s how I feel about this lifestyle. It’s my everyday reality.
The truth is, to live my best life, I personally need to have options. That’s what freedom means to me.
I’m responsible for designing my life. Important life decisions aren’t dictated by a mortgage, a house, or a job. Rosie and I stripped away all that, so we’re in charge.
And this sense of freedom? It’s amazing.
The Reality Check
Now, don’t get me wrong, we’re not at the ultimate place yet.
We’d love to earn more money to expand our options. At the moment, we can’t afford to live anywhere we want, or fly back to see family as often as we’d like.
But we’re working hard to get there without sacrificing what we already have.
For example, earlier this year when I wasn’t making any money, I thought about getting a job. My WHY - living my best life, having freedom, pursuing joy and happiness - stopped me from considering this as Plan A.
So I started working on what else I could do. That led me to my current coaching, consulting, and web design work. And I’m so glad I did.
The Settlement Decision
Here’s what’s interesting: Rosie and I are settling in Bangkok next year. We’re getting a home base.
But not because I need it. Because she does.
And that’s actually another expression of freedom for me.
I’m now in a place where I have options. I’m fully in charge of my decisions. And you know what? Marriage is about compromise.
I love my wife. I love this lifestyle because we do it together. If she needs a change, then we need to change something so we’re both happy.
The settlement in Asia is a compromise we’re both happy with. I’m not giving up my freedom, I’m choosing commitment over endless optionality. And that choice? That’s powerful.
Nothing Is Black or White
These days, everything gets polarized. You’re left or right. Black or white. Blue or red. For or against. Right or wrong.
It feels like there isn’t space for nuances anymore.
But life is more complex than that. We’re more complex than that.
Everything falls on a spectrum, not just two faces of a coin.
Nomadism is the same way.
Some people use it to run from themselves. Others use it to run toward their dreams. Some find emptiness. Others find fulfillment.
We all have our own reasons, our own ways of living it.
What I Want You to Take Away
If you’re nomading and loving it, don’t let other people’s experiences make you question yours.
If you’re nomading and struggling, don’t feel like you have to push through just because someone else is thriving.
Your experience is valid. Mine is too.
The point isn’t to convince anyone that nomading is the answer. It’s not for everyone. Hell, it’s not even for my wife anymore, at least not in the way we’ve been doing it.
But it works for me. It might work for you. Or it might not.
What matters is that you’re honest with yourself about why you’re doing it. Are you running from something? Or toward something?
Are you living this life because it fills your cup? Or because you think you’re supposed to?
Because at the end of the day, freedom isn’t about endless travel or constant novelty.
Freedom is about having options. About being in charge of your choices. About designing a life that’s actually yours.
And if that means settling down? That’s freedom too.
If it means keeping moving? Also freedom.
The key is knowing the difference, and being honest about what you need.
What’s your take? Are you nomading, settled, or somewhere in between? I’d love to hear your perspective.
Not the same as nomading, but when I had been on tour in the theatre for about four years, I started to get the itch for pillows that were mine and my choice of pictures on the wall. After preparing to move abroad, I realized how much of that stuff only served to make me feel both comfortable but also trapped in my life. Letting go of so much has made a huge difference, though I do like having a base!