Life without a home
There's no place on this planet I refer to as my home. My mature intellectual friends regularly joke that I'm a homeless vagabond.
Never felt like home
There's no doubt this laid the foundation for the nomadic life I live now.
But commitment has always been difficult. I never liked to know where I would be in six months. For large parts of my life, in my childhood especially, I always had to cling to the hope of a better future. That was my way for surviving and coping mentally. This thought pattern became my mindset through years of self-imposed indoctrination.
Life on the road
But it's not like we nomads just charge heroicly and fearlessly into the unknown. We have doubts and fears like everybody else.
But I have great confidence in my own ability to overcome obstacles, so I don't get stressed or worried about it. I believe this a key trait for being able to enjoy nomadic travel.
If we're being completely real and honest, I feel it's a bit naïve to just blindly trust you can deal with any problem ahead. At the same time, believing strongly in it, triggers a self-confidence which automatically influences events, usually to your advantage.
The price you pay for this freedom is steep. Humans are designed ground up to stick to their safe places and with their safe habbits. On the road you have no more sense of safety than what your confidence to overcome all possible obstacles provides.
There's naturally also the impending obstacle of bonding long-term with people. Your friendships and romances are brief. Yes, you can see people again, and, yes, it actually happens. But my personal rule of thumb is to not count on it. You need to be in at a point in your life where you're happy without commitments. For me, that's kind of already in the DNA of nomadic travel.