It's not that simple.

So, it's been roughly a month since the end of my term on the Auckland Youth Advisory Panel, and I guess what's been on many people's mind is what's next for Veisinia?

For a whole month, I struggled with the pressure of having to provide an answer to what many people would see as a simple question but somehow incredibly confronting. A day after I had thanked everyone who had supported the kaupapa, I received messages from people asking me what I had in the works next.

Frankly, the only thing this girl had planned was a 12-hour nap and a class at 1 pm.

For the first time in my entire life, I didn't have anything planned, no meeting to attend and could post whatever I wanted on my twitter account without having a staff member pull me up because someone had interpreted my comment as a personal attack. [Yeah, this happened. SMH- still triggered. Another blog post for a different time.]

Back to the subject at hand, I had just left what had consumed my life for the past 2-3 years and already I was being asked what my plans were less than 24 hours of having left the role.

What people seem to forget is that these simple questions aren't as simple as it seems. It's much more complex than we think. When we leave a space that we have dedicated our mind, souls and hearts to; we experience a sense of loss.

A friend of mine compared the transition out of this space as the process of grievance and mourning.

There's a sense of loss that fills the air.

The fear of the unknown becomes all but consuming.

And sometimes there's a bit of anger that lingers deep down in the process of moving on.

And so, it's fair to say that many people across Aotearoa have or are having to say goodbye at some point in their life.

Whether it's an experience, a job or a passion.

We dedicate so much of our energy putting ourselves second to everything, whether it's our family, a job or an experience that we forget to invest in ourselves during the entire process.

Therefore, when we leave these spaces, we're left with the loss of comfortability. The fear of the unknown and in my case, having to reinforce myself that I was okay without a game plan.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I wasn't just saying goodbye to an experience. I was saying goodbye to colleagues, amazing staff members and the inspiring young people that I had the opportunity to work with in other sectors.

I wasn't just saying goodbye to Auckland Council-the experience, but I was saying goodbye to the relationships I built with people who are equally passionate about social justice.

Because it is the people that bring life to these spaces, not the titles or the positions.

In essence, I was closing a huge chapter in my life that brought me so much joy and happiness.

A chapter which was filled with story-telling, values, love, and passion.

I needed time to grieve.

I put everyone who had asked me what my next plans were on 'read' and took a whole month to remind myself of what my goals were before my life took a 360.

I realized that I had given myself so much to this kaupapa that I had put what my grandparents could never receive on the back burner and that was an education. I started to recognize that I had a huge passion for writing and I invested into that passion. Finally, I gave myself permission to grieve and be a normal 22-year-old University student.

The moment I allowed myself to grieve, was the moment I allowed myself the opportunity to meet this newly, evolved Veisinia. Not the 18-year-old Veisinia who started this journey but the Veisinia who was just passionate about the world around her.

And so, to answer all the unanswered questions in my Facebook messenger.

I am putting myself first for the first time in my life.

That is what's next.