Flight or roots?

A combination of this post on talent and its responses, Bennie K's version of Satisfaction (link to be provided later) and thoughts of my friend who wants to get out of this country prompted this post.
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Once upon a time, my dream was to travel the world. Not just as a tourist - I wanted to work my way around the world. I wanted to stay in different countries and immerse myself in the culture - what it was like in terms of food, housing, atmosphere - everything. I wanted to live. I deemed that I needed at least 3 months to do this.
That's why I took up my bachelor's degree - I was told that every company needed one of these, and it would make it easy for me to travel.
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Then I grew up, and this happened - I grew roots.
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It's not that I don't want to travel, I still do. But I worry more now. I keep looking back over my shoulder to where I came from. I felt it the most keenly on my most recent trip - I was relieved to be back. Yes, I had a lot of fun on my trip, but it was only fun because it was temporary. I was just as glad to be back as I was happy to be flying to a new place.

It's gotten to the stage that when I think about the possibility of a long stint overseas, I squirm. I want to go, but the idea of uprooting pains me. I'd just grown these roots - they may not be the best roots, but they're mine.

I'm not so sure I want to repot myself, at this moment.