This is not my permanent reality. This is not my permanent reality. I repeat these words like a mantra as an avalanche of goose bumps domino across the exposed skin on my arms. I say it again as the miniscule stream of scalding water pumps out of the shower nozzle and ricochets off my head (managing to miss most of my body) and sprays the floor, the toilet, and even my slippers lying in what I thought would be safe territory. A gust of icy wind blows through the room, an unfortunate reality given the smell of sewage that surfaces from the medieval pipes if I seal the windows shut.

This is not my permanent reality. I weigh the options. Maybe getting warm is better than getting clean, but I made that choice yesterday (and the day before) and now my hair is so greasy I’m glad no one knows me in the Moroccan city of Fez. I lock my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering and try to picture the rich hot coffee (and heated milk) that will be waiting for me in soldier-like stainless steel thermoses when I go down for breakfast.

I could lie and tell you that moments like this teach me to be grateful for my hot showers back home. Or, I could pretend that I didn’t spend the next 2 days alone in my room, huddled by the radiator nursing a fever and a head cold, while the rain trumpeted against the roof of the courtyard above. But, I have always promised you the truth. You see, my life is not as glamorous as Facebook would have you believe. Nobody’s is.

None of us post pictures of ourselves with the flu, of how we look when our newborn wakes us up for the sixth time in one night, of how it feels when our significant other tells us she or he has fallen in love with someone else, or of the pit that gathers in our stomachs when we get the call that the job we had thought would be ours has been put on hold due to internal restructuring. We keep those moments to ourselves and instead share images of beach holidays, perfect weddings, international adventures, or adorable children.

But the truth is – everyone has bad days, sick days, sad days, and lonely days. Yes, everyone. Even chasing an audacious dream or travelling to the other side of the world doesn’t change any of that. It merely shifts the geography of your pity party (and makes it less likely that you can numb your sorrows with NetFlix, Hot Toddies, or gluten-free pizza). Thankfully, I’ve been through enough bad days and weeks to know that nothing is permanent. There is always a clearing. A moment where we breathe easier, we laugh out loud, we fall in love with a place or a person shows up for us in just the right way at the perfect time.

As my new friend Mohamed, the in-country Director of CCS Rabat, said to me on a walk and talk about the Islam faith (and I’m paraphrasing). This life is not eternal. The best experiences of our lives become only memories and the worst experiences of our lives become like bad dreams. Our job is to learn and grow from each experience and to become better people through the good and the bad.

I can’t promise that my pity party in Fez made me a better person, but it reminded me to give myself a break. Not every day on the road is going to be easy or Facebook worthy. After all, my job is to experience everything (good and bad) so I can package up the right combination of volunteering and once-in-a-lifetime activities for our future Fresh Chapter Alliance Foundation participants. Sometimes that means volunteering during the day and working until midnight to catch up on emails and then doing it all over again at 7am the next morning. Sometimes it means freezing my backside off (quite literally) so I can wash my hair. But for me, the good days far outweigh the bad and for that I am incredibly grateful.

In spite of the cold and being sick, I have exciting things planned for future participants, if we decide to launch #FCAFAfrica in Morocco. A morning city tour with a guide, the warmth of the staff at Riad Tizwa, and the take your breath away rooftop deck showed me all of the reasons why traveling to Fez (preferably in the warmth of April’s sunshine) just might be a once-in-a-lifetime bucket-list experience for future participants.  Don’t believe me? Check out the hi-lights from Morocco so far here: #FCAFAfrica – Morocco or Tanzania? 

As for my international pity party? Thank God for Skype and a best friend who always reminds me that even when I’m on the other side of the world, I’m not alone. And neither are you. Thank you for reading and being part of this community. I appreciate you and feel incredibly lucky to have you with me while I’m on the road. You give me strength on the days that feel particularly hard. I hope by sharing my story with you, it helps you feel less alone when you get sucked into comparing your life to the “perfect” lives of your friends on Facebook. None of our lives are perfect, but it’s about enjoying the ride – bumps and all.

I would love to hear from you in the comments below. How do you cope with those tough days in your life?