To see this country with clear eyes is to forever feel your heart break.

I doubt I’ll ever escape the conflict that is being an American. Though it’s strength wanes, my entire life has been shaped by the luck of my blue passport, the luck I was born with. I rarely think about visas when I want to go somewhere. I can be confident that no matter where I go someone will likely speak my native language. Shit, I’m the daughter of a college dropout and I became a diplomat.

America has given me and mine a lot of luck. But heartbreak follows even if I’m lucky enough to escape her.

Ten years ago in Oman I cried on a rooftop, smoking a borrowed cigarette that tasted like hot rage after the news broke of the mass shooting at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church. Nine people murdered is barely a blip in the grand scheme of American gun deaths, but still feels like a crushing weight.

Seven years ago in Jordan I would burrow into my bed after processing visa applications of Syrians who wanted to come to the US. Crying grandmas and stoic husbands all denied in the midst of a deadly civil war because a racist executive order said so. The echoes of that “muslim ban” and it’s hateful, newer cousins, still reverberate around the world today.

Trying to explain to taxi drivers in Cairo, in Amman, in Baghdad, through jet lag and language barriers that Americans don’t hate them, but America’s leaders will absolutely exploit their fear of what they don’t understand.

And now, I think more and more about leaving again. I know the fantasy of migration is a lot harder, a lot lonelier, than it appears. But it’s so tempting to take my privilege and begin again somewhere that feels less hateful.

The thing is, wherever I go, America always follows.

We were able to finagle a second departure for our sold out group trip to Egypt in the fall, complete with the same private boat, same incredible experiences and food. The only tweak? One hotel change in Luxor to a property with the same rating and a very similar vibe.

Folks on the waitlist had the first shot at this second Egypt departure from October 17-26 and now it’s nearly full. There’s just one spot left on this adventure of a lifetime.

Home, the concept of a nation, identity, it’s all so complicated and layered. And while no home is perfect, damn it does hurt to have your heart broken again and again.