The moment my body hit the ice-cold lake water, my breath fastened.
I climbed the stairs of the jetty quickly, my lungs gasping as cold air rushed into them.
My breath hung in the air like smoke.
“Breathe, deep breaths, now it’s time for the sauna,” my friend said.
I wrapped my towel and looked around. The lake was frozen, a hole cut into the ice where we plunged.
I was a long way from my home in the Kimberley, and I couldn’t have been happier that my first time overseas was here, in Sweden.
As I approached the age of 30, I longed to travel outside of Australia, but there was always an excuse, always an obstacle.
Last year, however, was a turning point. I was ready to open myself up to the world.
Overseas travel seemed daunting
Molly Hunt at home in the Kimberley, in WA. (Supplied: Matt Sav)
Despite having seen a lot of my home country, there was always something in the way of taking the leap overseas.
Work commitments. Money. Timing.
There were moments I came close, like when I started a group chat with friends and said with enthusiasm that seemed like I might be serious this time, “Let’s book flights!”
But I never committed.
And if I’m truly honest with myself, it was fear.
Overcoming anxiety to travel solo
Not necessarily fear of the world itself, but fear of how the world might see me.
Would I be accepted? Was I enough? Would I be able to move through unfamiliar places with confidence?
It was a quiet, deep insecurity that sat beneath everything. It wasn’t just about travel. It was about identity.
So, I stayed with the idea of travel, rather than the reality.
Why I finally left Australia
Maybe it’s the Capricorn in me (we are known to prioritise work over leisure), but it was a work opportunity that led to my first overseas trip.
I was invited by The Museum of World Culture to contribute to an exhibition in Gothenburg, Sweden.
Asked to contribute to the Dreams and Power theme, I said yes without hesitation.
Molly presenting her art in Sweden. (Supplied)
I created a comic format to tell an old Yolngu Dreaming Story, “Darrpa-King Brown”, a special moment to bring culture and storytelling across the ocean in this contemporary form.
This felt more than opportunity, it felt like responsibility.
To be invited to share a story from my culture, across the world, that carried weight.
It wasn’t just about me travelling overseas. It was about carrying something with me and honouring where I come from.
A second coming-of-age
Molly’s art featured at the Swedish exhibit tells an old Yolngu Dreaming Story. (Supplied)
Around the same time this work opportunity presented itself, I had been going through what felt like a second coming of age.
Not the kind you have in your teens, full of firsts and figuring things out for the first time — but a quieter, deeper one.
The kind that comes after everything has been stripped back.
I had recently been through a heartbreaking separation that tore parts of me.
But that pain forced me to confront a truth: I had been trying to make something work that no longer aligned with who I was becoming.
Yes, I lost someone I cared about. But I had gained a new understanding about myself.
I felt free and was ready to put that freedom to good use.
Seeing the world seemed like a great way to do that.
What travel taught me
Some of the icy cold waters Molly saw in Sweden. (Supplied: Molly Hunt)
My fear of travel kept me at home. But after what I had been through last year, I felt almost fearless.
Before leaving my town of Kununurra, I set some intentions: have a good attitude, lead with kindness, don’t carry assumptions, and don’t overthink it.
Just go — and meet whatever is there.
What surprised me most about travelling overseas was how quickly the unfamiliar became familiar.
At first, everything felt different — the cold, the language, the rhythm of life.
But the people were still people. Kindness, laughter, and connection all translated.
It wasn’t as intimidating as I had imagined.
This trip taught me that I can go anywhere in the world and experience joy, friendships, romances, career opportunities and the simple pleasure of discovering something new.
Back home in the Kimberley — my feet pressed into the red dirt, the smell of bushfire in the air — I think about Sweden and the frozen lake.
Two completely different worlds — but both I am now familiar with, and I can’t wait to explore more.
Illustrator and journalist Molly Hunt is a Balanggarra and Yolngu artist and writer from the Kimberley in WA.