There’s a script most of us are handed somewhere around high school graduation. Go to college. Get a stable job. Buy a house. Settle down. Repeat the same routine for forty years. Retire. That’s the dream, right?
But what if that script doesn’t fit? What if there’s something inside you that knows there has to be more—not more money, not more status, but more meaning, more experience, more life?
I’m Evan Hailes, and at 22, I decided to rewrite the script entirely.
The Beginning: Curiosity Over Convention
My journey into travel and intentional living started with a simple but powerful force: curiosity about the world. I was always fascinated by different ways of living, by the infinite possibilities that existed beyond the borders I grew up in. I wanted to understand life not just intellectually, but experientially—to see it, feel it, live it in all its messy, beautiful complexity.
I had this growing desire to live a life that felt meaningful rather than conventional. Not the kind of meaningful that looks good on paper or impresses people at dinner parties, but the kind that resonates deep in your chest when you wake up each morning. The kind where you’re not just going through the motions, but actively choosing each day.
So I made a decision that would change everything: I would travel. Not as a tourist passing through, but as someone willing to build temporary homes in unfamiliar places and see what that process taught me about life and myself.
Traveling and living abroad taught me to slow down in a world that constantly demands speed. It taught me to embrace uncertainty instead of fighting against it. It showed me how to build a life around experiences rather than possessions, around growth rather than accumulation.
It’s shaped me into someone who values purpose in everything I do—not in a heavy, burdensome way, but in a way that makes each day feel intentional and alive.
The Leap at 22: Teaching English in Spain
I first moved abroad at 22 when I decided to teach English in Spain.
Fresh out of college, I was standing at that crossroads where society expects you to “get serious” about your career, find the stable path, start climbing the ladder. But I was craving adventure in a way that felt impossible to ignore. I wanted to step outside the predictable path I felt pressured to follow and see what else was out there.
More than anything, I wanted to challenge myself. To immerse in a new culture completely. To see who I could become in an entirely different environment, stripped of all the familiar contexts and comfort zones that had defined me up until that point.
Spain wasn’t random—there was something about the culture that called to me. The way people prioritized life over work, connection over productivity, presence over constant striving. I wanted to experience that firsthand, to let it seep into my bones and change the way I saw the world.
That decision to move to Spain at 22 opened doors I didn’t even know existed. It set the foundation for the life I’m living now, where home is a feeling rather than a fixed location, and adventure is woven into the fabric of daily existence rather than something you save up vacation days for.
Thailand: The Moment Everything Shifted
If you ask me about the most transformative moment in my journey, I’ll tell you about a small rural town in Thailand.
I’d been traveling and living abroad for a while by that point, experiencing different cities and cultures. But this place—this quiet, unassuming town that most people would drive through without a second thought—changed something fundamental in me.
Life there moved at a different pace. Not the rushed, anxious pace of modern life where you’re always behind, always catching up, always worried about what’s next. But slower. More connected. Deeply rooted in community in a way I’d never experienced before.
People knew their neighbors. They gathered together without needing an excuse or an agenda. They lived in rhythm with the seasons, with the land, with each other. There was a simplicity to daily life that felt radical in its contentment.
I remember sitting outside one evening, watching the sun set over rice fields, surrounded by people who had very little in terms of material wealth but seemed to possess something I’d been searching for my entire life: a deep, unshakeable sense of peace and belonging.
That’s when it clicked for me: happiness doesn’t come from constant striving. It doesn’t come from achieving the next goal, getting the next promotion, checking off the next item on your bucket list. It comes from being present and grateful for the simple moments. From connection. From slowing down enough to actually experience your life instead of just racing through it.
That experience in Thailand shifted the way I see the world and how I choose to live each day. It taught me that wealth isn’t just financial—it’s time, it’s peace, it’s community, it’s the ability to be fully present in your own life.
Advice for the Person About to Leap
If you’re reading this and you’re about to move abroad or start fresh in a completely new environment, here’s what I want you to know:
Don’t wait to feel “ready.” You become ready by taking the leap, not before it. There will never be a moment where everything aligns perfectly and all your fears disappear. You’ll always have reasons to wait, doubts to work through, logistics that aren’t quite figured out.
But here’s the secret: you figure it out along the way. That’s actually the point.
Say yes to the unknown. I know that’s easier said than done. The unknown is terrifying because our brains are wired to seek safety and predictability. But some of the best moments of your life are waiting on the other side of that fear.
Stay curious. Approach your new environment with genuine curiosity rather than judgment or comparison. Everything will be different—the way people communicate, the rhythm of daily life, the social norms, the food, the values. Let those differences teach you something instead of resisting them.
Give yourself grace as you adjust. Moving abroad isn’t just a physical transition—it’s emotional, psychological, cultural. You’re essentially learning how to be a person all over again in a context that doesn’t come with an instruction manual. That’s exhausting and disorienting and completely normal.
It’s okay to feel uncomfortable at first. Actually, it’s more than okay—it’s necessary. Those moments of uncertainty, when you feel completely out of your depth and have no idea what you’re doing, are often where the most growth happens.
Trust that you’re capable of building a life wherever you go. Because you are. Humans are incredibly adaptable creatures. We’ve been migrating, settling in new places, and creating homes in unfamiliar territories for thousands of years. It’s in our DNA.
You have everything you need to make this work. You might not believe that right now, but you will. Give it time.
Redefining Home: A Feeling, Not a Place
People often ask me where home is, expecting a simple answer—a city, a country, an address. But after all the experiences and places I’ve been, I’ve learned that home is less about a place and more about a feeling.
Home is the moments of connection that make you feel like you belong. It’s the people who make you feel seen—really seen—not just for who you present to the world, but for who you actually are underneath all the performance.
Home is the small rituals that ground you no matter where you are. The morning coffee routine. The way you arrange your space. The music you play while cooking. The quiet moments before bed when you reflect on the day. These rituals can travel with you, creating pockets of familiarity even in the most foreign environments.
I’ve learned that you can create home anywhere when you’re intentional about how you live and open to what each place has to offer. Home isn’t something you find—it’s something you build, over and over again, in each new location you land.
This realization has been incredibly freeing. It means I’m not constantly searching for the “perfect” place that will finally make me feel settled and complete. Every place has something to offer. Every place can be home, if you let it.
The Lesson I Wish Everyone Understood
There’s a misconception about travel and big life changes that I wish I could clear up for everyone: they’re not about escaping your life—they’re about expanding it.
So many people assume that moving abroad means you’re running away from something. A bad job. A difficult relationship. A life that wasn’t working. And sure, sometimes those things are catalysts. But that’s not what it’s really about.
Travel and life transitions aren’t about running away from who you are. They’re about meeting new parts of yourself in unfamiliar places. Parts of you that couldn’t emerge in your old environment because the context didn’t allow for it.
Maybe you’re braver than you thought. Maybe you’re more social, more creative, more resilient, more open-minded, more capable than the life you were living allowed you to express.
Each transition is an invitation to grow, to see the world differently, and to rewrite your story in ways you never imagined. It’s not about becoming a different person—it’s about becoming more fully yourself, shedding the layers of expectation and conditioning that weren’t actually yours to begin with.
When you change your environment, you change your possibilities. You break patterns that felt permanent. You question assumptions you didn’t even know you were making. You discover that there are countless ways to live a meaningful life, and the path you were on wasn’t the only option—it was just one option among infinite possibilities.
What Intentional Living Actually Means
Living intentionally doesn’t mean having every day perfectly planned or knowing exactly where you’ll be in five years. It doesn’t mean never feeling lost or uncertain or questioning your choices.
For me, intentional living means making conscious choices about how I spend my time and energy, rather than defaulting to what’s expected or comfortable. It means regularly asking myself: Does this align with my values? Is this moving me toward the person I want to become? Am I choosing this because I genuinely want it, or because I think I’m supposed to want it?
It means building a life around what actually matters to me—growth, connection, purpose, experience—rather than what looks impressive or successful from the outside.
It means being willing to say no to opportunities that don’t serve me, even when they look good on paper. And being willing to say yes to opportunities that terrify me but feel deeply right.
It means accepting that the path won’t always be clear, the choices won’t always be obvious, and sometimes you’ll make decisions that don’t work out the way you hoped. And that’s okay. That’s part of it.
The Life I’m Living Now
The life I’m living now looks nothing like what I imagined at 22 when I first moved to Spain. It’s better, actually. More nuanced, more textured, more interesting than any version I could have planned.
I’ve built homes in countries I’d never heard of before living there. I’ve formed deep friendships with people I never would have met if I’d stayed on the conventional path. I’ve learned languages, adapted to different cultures, navigated bureaucracies in foreign countries, and discovered that I’m capable of so much more than I gave myself credit for.
But more than any specific experience or achievement, what I’m most grateful for is the perspective shift. The understanding that life is long and full of possibilities. That you can reinvent yourself. That home is portable. That meaning is something you create rather than something you find.
I still don’t have all the answers. I still have days when I feel uncertain about the path I’m on or wonder if I should be more settled by now. But those doubts come less frequently, and when they do, I’m better at recognizing them for what they are: just thoughts, not truth.
To the Person Reading This
If you’re considering a big move, a major life change, a leap into the unknown—I see you. I know it’s scary. I know you have a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t do it, why now isn’t the right time, why you should wait until you’re more prepared.
But I also know that there’s something inside you that won’t let this go. That keeps whispering about possibility, about adventure, about a different way of living.
Listen to that whisper. It knows something your fear doesn’t.
You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need to know exactly where you’ll end up or what your life will look like in five years. You just need to take the first step, and then the next one, and trust that the path will reveal itself as you walk it.
The world is vast and full of different ways to live a meaningful life. You owe it to yourself to explore them, to see what resonates, to build something that feels true to who you actually are rather than who you’re supposed to be.
You’re more capable than you think. Braver than you know. And the life you’re meant to live might be waiting for you in a place you haven’t even considered yet.
Take the leap. Say yes to the unknown. Create home wherever you go.
I promise it’s worth it.
This is my story—from conventional expectations to intentional choices, from one definition of home to infinite possibilities. It started with curiosity and led to a life I couldn’t have imagined.
The best version of your story might be waiting just outside your comfort zone.