Field Dispatch: Why do I keep doing hard things?

I finished posting my daily video dairies from the expedition on Instagram this week, which means I’m living a second HOLY SHIT I DID IT moment all over again. This includes multiples comments asking me why I did this, ranging between the

respectfully befuddled

to the immediate no

honorable mention to my favorite go-to response when someone tells me I have big balls

The “why?!” of it all is understandable and hard to answer.

My teenage years included a lot of movement, change, uncertainty and hyper-independence. Did this set me up for a semi-nomadic adulthood? Probably.

But when I decided to move to South Africa at the age of thirteen, I remember having to bite back my smile while my best friends sobbed on the other side of security. I was so excited! Even though the move was mired in the noise of a truly Hard Time, there was something within me that saw the obstacle ahead and lit up.

Does that mean I was born with something inside me, some ineffable trait that made me predisposed to taking on challenges? I have no clue. It definitely wasn’t cultivated during my cushy pre-teen years in the predominately white, predominately well-off Boston suburb I grew up in.