Why Being Your True Self Is Priceless

One question I get asked quite often is, how do you travel the world like you do? Are you rich? Is your travel sponsored? Do you have a job that allows you to travel? As much as I wish the answer to all those questions was yes, it’s actually no. My travel journey didn’t start with me taking trips all over the world like it seems on Instagram. I started from humble beginnings, just wanting to travel so bad that I slowly made it happen. It was a childhood fantasy that I turned into my reality, literally by any means necessary. You’ll see what that means later in the story.

Many people limit the term travel to being on a plane but travel is so much more than that. There are numerous modes of transportation that will get you places if you can’t just pack up and fly to another continent today. Whether it be financial constraints, time limitations or family commitments, traveling is much easier than it was when I started just a couple of years ago. Especially if you consider the destinations in your own city and state; there’s more to see than you realize.

On top of that, you can go on a trip anywhere in the world, come back, post your photos to the gram and pay for it up to a year after you get back with all the payment options that are available. Don’t believe me? Read my article on what I’m talking about here, your next excursion is closer than you think. If you open your mind to all the possibilities that traveling encompasses and throw in an adventurous spirit, you’ll be amazed at all the places you can go.

For me it’s not so much how I travel, that part is easy, it’s why I travel that defines my journey around the globe. It’s one thing to sit at a resort the the entire time you are on vacation and quite another to live like a local everywhere you go. True passion for travel allows you to understand the culture you are immersed in, not just take pictures on the beach with drinks in your hand to stunt for the gram. Now that can also be nice, don’t get me wrong, it’s just not all that I believe you should do (unless you actually need to relax). But if putting’ on for the gram gets you out the house then by all means, let’s go!

So you’re probably wondering when I’m going to get on with how I started traveling right? Ok, here goes. Grab a glass of wine because this is a good long one.

Candace as a child, at my grandmothers home

I grew up in the very small town of Elberton Georgia. I was raised by my grandparents who allowed my father to move back in with them after he and my mother separated when I was two years old, my brother three. My dad had what I believed was an undiagnosed psychological condition so he kept us in the house a lot because he was afraid everyone was trying to kill him or us to get at him. No exaggeration. He would force us to sit through lectures that lasted for hours about who was trying to do what to him, how and always found a way to tie it to the Bible so we’d believe him. My brother never quite latched on to what he was saying but I did at first not knowing any better and because he was my dad.

It drove me crazy as I got older because for one, he didn’t have a job most of my life so no one really saw him in order to come up with a plan to kill him. Two, he rarely talked to anyone besides us so I felt like no one even realized he was still alive in order to decide that they wanted to kill him. He didn’t want us to come out the room with him when family came to visit or even eat my grandmothers cooking. I did get to do both regardless of his opinion but sometimes he’d force me not to. It was like we were involuntarily locked in a mental institution right along with him sometimes.

My main get away from the inside of my grandparents home and the delusional rants of my father’s mind was when he randomly took long drives through the country. Now that I’m older I think he did it to clear his mind and feel like he owned his life in some way rather than his mother still being his sole provider. Even if only momentarily. He was pretty cool when we went on our trips I must say. I’d be glued to the window with excitement and watching everything we passed, usually just riding aimlessly.

I think my dad wished he could’ve just kept going instead of having to go back to my grandmothers but without a steady job he didn’t have the means to do so. Many times we’d end up in the woods walking through a creek, shooting his guns (yes as kids) or picking scupperdines to eat, a type of muscadine, which was like a grape with really tough skin. I found out when I was older they are actually called scuppernongs. Us and our country slang. Whatever they were, times like these are what shaped my love for exploring a place for what it truly was which is why I do it now when I travel.

Our drives were also moments for me to play a game with myself to see if I could guess what make and model every car we passed was from far away before I could see the emblems or the nameplate on the back. I rarely got it wrong. The body style of the car gave me clues in the daylight. I used the shape of the head and taillights, how far apart the lights were, and where they sat on the car to determine the models at night. This is where my love for seeing different monuments and historical sites when I travel began. Just recognizing cars from afar. Kinda weird I know. I was just happy to be apart of a world beyond anything that didn’t sit on that acre of land my grandparents owned so this is how I did it. I eventually went to recognizing trees, buildings and bodies of water but cars is where it all started.

When I wasn't lost daydreaming on our drives through the country side, I’d be imagining myself in different scenarios of the pages in my Seventeen magazine that I received every month. I have no clue how I paid for it but my grandma gave us money for chores so that must’ve been it. I also snuck and read my uncles Ebony and Jet magazines. Jet seemed of limits because of the beauty of the week. Seeing a women in a bikini is nothing today but back then it was a big deal. These magazines were how I somewhat saw and learned about other parts of the United States and the world. It was how I took my mental vacations from the life I hated so much but had no clue how to get out of with a father who didn’t let us go anywhere.

When my mom left us she’d remarried and moved to Texas with my then stepdad and later born sister so my brother and I made a few trips there while we were growing up to spend summers with her. My father didn’t particularly like this but allowed it because she was our mom. I think his resentment for her leaving him is why he always tried to convince us we should never leave our little country town. He would say that God was not pleased with her leaving and wouldn’t be with us if we did the same.

He even gave it relevance to make the thought of leaving scarier with a Bible verse, his main reinforcement for why we couldn’t do certain things in life, ever. When my uncle, his little brother, died at age 28, (I was 10 years old) he was able to back his claim up even more by saying it happened because he moved away from home and dishonored his parents which God says not to do in the ten commandments. My uncle had only moved to Atlanta, two hours away. Talk about terrifying to ever think of leaving!

I feel like my father saw it in me early on, the thirst for more out of life and that’s why he said those things to us. I think it was his way not to lose us too now that I look back on it. Our family didn’t know how to be vulnerable and say things like “I don’t want you to leave because I love you too much and you’re all I have.” So my father resorted to scare tactics. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get me to accept his idea of never leaving Elberton. Something inside of me said the opposite. I wanted to be in the good graces of God of course, but in the back of my mind I knew the Lord would forgive me whenever that day came. I didn’t know how but I always knew I would set myself free and more than likely without my dads approval.

During one of our summer trips to Texas I remember the first time I saw The Parks Mall in Arlington, TX driving down the interstate. I thought it was a huge grocery store. Coming from a small town, the only large places of business were the regular Walmart and the grocery store. Not the super Walmart with a grocery store inside but the one with only the other half of the store in it. I’m sure Gen Z is like, what are you talking about? Ha, ha!

I knew it wasn’t Wal-Mart, so it had to be a grocery store based on my life experiences. When I saw it I said, “dats a big grossry stow” as country sounding as I could be. Now this mall is 1.5 million square feet but again, I was correlating it with what I knew. My mother quickly corrected me, in a condescending way I remember, and I felt very dumb to say it plainly. Elberton was doing me no justice.

I mean, I’d heard of the mall and had been to a small one a couple of times in Athens, Georgia but had never seen one like this one. It looked like it was made of glass. Now I know those were just massive skylights and windows. But as a child I associated it with the Ingles grocery store in our town which if I remember right, had skylights on the outside so to me, it was a huge grocery store. It was one of those moments that defined why I had to know more about life than my Seventeen magazine and our country road trips were allowing me to.

I of course forgave my mothers lack of care for my feelings because she was my mom, the fun parent from what I saw. Living the good life. It was also what I always did. She’d always groom me to pretend our relationship was something it wasn’t in front of others and I’d soak up the moments as if they were real life knowing as soon as we left that crowd of people things would go back to the way they really were. She pretty much felt like a mean babysitter any other time.

Realizing so young how shut off from the world I’d been was definitely a catalyst for me to figure out how I was going to learn more about life than I was being exposed to. I decided I’d never be made to feel less than by anyone ever again, no matter who they were. I probably was all of 11-years old but that feeling stuck with me. To the point that I needed a counselor to help me understand why I talked so condescendingly to people that didn’t know things I felt they should an adult. It was just my mother coming out of me. Thank God for realizing I needed to see someone. Talk about toxic behavior!

In our travels as children, we were lucky enough to drive to Disney World with my dad since Florida was right below Georgia and he’d stumbled on a little money from one of the few jobs he had as we were growing up. We drove one of his raggedy cars that broke down on the trip like they did everywhere we went (the Burger King drive-thru in Elberton was the most embarrassing break down) but it was all still fun. He didn’t have his job long but it was thoughtful of him to want to spend the little money he had on something so huge for us. It was the most fun road trip we’d been on at that point in my life. Disney was great, but being on the open road was the best part to me.

I also got to ride from Georgia to San Diego, California when my mom won custody of me after I told the judge I wanted to live with her at our custody hearing when I was 12. My dad was very angry with me to say the least. He felt like I ruined his life but I never knew how or why he believed that. Now that I’m grown I don’t think he meant it. I believe he needed to have a real talk with himself about his shortcomings in life and at the time blaming me was easier.

We lived in San Diego because my sisters dad was in the Navy and that’s where he was stationed after they lived in Texas. I chose to live with my mom because of the nostalgia of seeing other parts of the country more than anything, not because I really wanted to live with her. I did but I saw something in her that wasn’t what a mom should be and knew we’d never be what I hoped we would. I was just fascinated with her life so I took the anger she directed towards me and always forgave her just to indulge in her world. I think she could use a good counseling about her past also because she’s still this way today and gets very angry if you bring it up. The only difference now is I don’t allow her to belittle me in any way when she gets in her moods. We tolerate each other pretty well for the most part though.

When I was little it was like she lived on a page in my magazines. The drive to California then became the most intriguing one I’d ever taken. Little by little I was outdoing myself with my travels. I loved it! I still remember what it felt like to arrive in San Diego and to see all the cars, the traffic, the buildings, the ocean and the miles of hills for the first time. I felt like I was free. I had friends, played after school and did any and everything with my sister. It was my favorite place to live. That is until my mom sent my sister and I back to Georgia after the school year ended.

Photo: Derek Story, Unsplash — Photo: Derek Story, *Unsplash*

I figured it was my fault she sent us away, my sister was spoiled and couldn’t do any wrong even when she did. One reason I thought she did it was because we stole all the recycle buckets that were given to every resident in our apartment complex off their doorstep and had mountains of them inside our apartment when she got home from work. I still don’t know what we were planning to do with all those buckets. Or maybe it was the time I convinced my sister to let me teach her how to ride her bike (the one that was hidden because it was her Christmas present) and then sneak it back like we didn’t see it. My mom quickly realized what we did because the bike tires were white when she bought it and had turned black where the thread hit the pavement. I obviously didn’t think that through.

Then again, maybe it was the time we snuck through the bars of the pool after it was closed to go for a swim and my sister almost drowned. Thankfully I knew to get the life preserver to save her. My mom probably would’ve tried to put me in kid jail had she died. There was also the time I called 911 thinking I was locked out of the house because I didn’t have my key when all along the door was unlocked and she had to leave work to talk to the police. She was pissed.

It could’ve also been the time she bought this expensive soap that was supposed to lighten my skin because she said I was too dark. They all were light-skinned. After I took one bath my sister ruined it because she couldn’t stand to see me have something she didn’t have, being so spoiled and all. Little did she know I was very happy she ruined it but my mom was so upset. That really hurt my feelings that she bought me soap that would somehow make her approve of me. I really hated living with her after that. I just knew if wasn’t one of those reasons, it was all of them. I realized it was none of them as an adult and that she had her own problems she was working through like my dad but as a child, you see things in a childlike way.

Instead of driving us from Cali to Georgia, she sent us home on an airplane. This was when the meals were free on domestic flights and people could walk you to the gate to see you off. I know Gen Z, crazy right? That plane ride was when the wanderlust bug hit me. I didn’t just want to leave Georgia for another state. I wanted to leave the U.S. for another country! The reality that planes could fly anywhere in the world was real to me on this day and I had to see what that was like when I was able to buy my own ticket to fly. This wouldn’t happen for another 20 years but I never let this dream go.

Once I was back to living in Elberton, after experiencing so much more, enduring the small mindedness of my father again had become very overwhelming for me. I lived with my other grandmother, my moms mom for a little while before going back to my dads mom. It was fun too, for the country, but still in Elberton. My father decided to take us out of school in the beginning of the seventh grade as his mental condition worsened so we sat in the house every single day. Thus, limiting the little freedom I had even more. We were supposed to be home-schooled, but we never did the work.

We rarely got to go to events like football games, a highlight when you live in a country town, just like the movie Friday Night Lights. I missed my chance to be in the band, something I really wanted to do and the most normal things like sleeping over at my girl cousin’s house was rare because of my dads paranoia. He was just so sure something was going to happen to us. I could feel how sorry people in town felt for us but no one could get through to my dad to save us.

In January of 1997 I was 13 years old and supposed to be in the ninth grade. I remember my dad and my grandmother got into an argument so bad that he said he was leaving and taking us to live with him in our car. The thought of living that life terrified me so much that I ended up running away from home a few days later because I believed him. My dad had taken my brother to the store and I saw a chance to get away unseen since my grandmother worked at the local spark plug plant until late and my grandfather had passed away. I’d already prearranged for my big cousin, who was five years older than me and had moved to Texas from Elberton when she graduated high school, to drive home to Georgia with her boyfriend, pick me up and take me back to Texas to live with her and my aunt.

My aunt was no longer married to my dads brother but she never stopped being my aunt to me and I knew she wouldn’t tell. I called my cousin who was waiting up the street when my dad left for the store. The moment she arrived I came running with trash bags full of clothes, got in the car and instantly felt free again. In the back of my mind I knew it wouldn’t last but I enjoyed every second of it while it did. We drove to Texas in the snow, which I thought was so amazing. The time I spent living with my cousin was one of the absolute best moments of my childhood. I didn’t think twice about how anyone felt about me leaving. I figured if no one could save me I’d save myself. I felt like the epitome of why the caged bird sings at this point in my life.

Photo: Annie Spratt, Unsplash — Photo: Annie Spratt, *Unsplash*

After a few days on the run my grandfather, my moms dad, reported me missing. I can’t remember why my dad didn’t make the call himself. I sure he thought his worse nightmare had come true and someone got me. I managed to make it a few weeks before I had to let my dream life go. I was living life the way a normal teenager was supposed to. I was about to be enrolled in school and I lived with people who showed me love. Something so small that many teens may never think twice about meant everything in the world to me. It was hard to accept that I couldn’t keep it. Since there was a nationwide search for me, some people even said I was on milk cartons, I went ahead and turned myself in. When the police showed up to get me I knew it was all over.

We stuck with the alibi that I ran away to anyone who asked for years. I was still a minor and my cousin was 19, legally an adult so we didn’t want her to be charged with kidnapping. We told the police that I got to Texas by hitchhiking but they didn’t believe it since I was only 13. They couldn’t prove that I didn’t so after lots of questions they had to go with it. Little did I know my mother had also moved back to Texas, was married to her third husband and that I had a step-sister. Since she legally had custody of me still, the police made me go live with her. She wasn’t too happy about it since she’d sent me back to Georgia and neither was I. I cried so hard the police didn’t want to make me go but couldn’t stop it.

We drove from Arlington to Fort Worth and I remember trying to keep track of every turn so I could tell my cousin how to come get me again. Needless to say she couldn’t. My stepdad had my mom enroll me in OD Wyatt high school during the last six weeks of the ninth grade so at least I still got to go to school. I was placed in all remedial classes because the administration office didn’t think there was any way I was smart enough to be starting school in almost the 10th grade since the last grade I had finished was the sixth. Luckily before all this, my seventeen magazine subscriptions allowed me to keep learning. Any word I didn’t know, I would look it up in the dictionary.

My grandmother also had a set of Encyclopedia Britannica’s that I’d reluctantly dive into after I read my magazine from cover to cover until the next one came. Not everyones first choice of reading I know but I read everything I could when I could. I just wanted to learn. I’d gravitate to any resource I could get my hands on and I’d try to learn something from it. Even to the point that when I used the bathroom I would read all the shampoo bottles, air fresheners, cleaning supplies, toothpaste tubes, feminine products, enemas, Vicks vapor rub (I lived with old people lol), I mean absolutely anything I could find while I was in there. I even challenged myself to properly pronounce all the words on the ingredients labels for the products that had one. I read everything on the cereal boxes when I ate breakfast, including my grandfathers nasty Raisin Bran. The boxes that had trivia questions were my favorite. I always rewarded myself with the prizes on the inside.

When I finished those six weeks of the ninth grade, I was 14 and had aced every class they put me in. I’ll never forget that all the popular kids who used to pick on me later in our high school journey were actually in those classes too. I of course didn’t know who the popular kids were when I first started. But I learned by the next school year.

They were the ones that dressed nice, had the latest everything, knew how to do all the cool dances and were envied by so many of us that didn’t have any of those things. But they could barely read. I realized then that popularity isn’t all its cracked up to be. That it was just a facade for most who had it. By the time 10th grade started I was back in regular classes. This is also when I considered myself to have officially started traveling on my own.

Photo: Rajvir Hunjan, Unsplash — Photo: Rajvir Hunjan, *Unsplash*

I discovered my opportunity to begin my wanderlust journey when all the other kids were skipping school to go hang out to drink, smoke and/or have sex. Instead of doing those things I decided to get on the city bus. Yep, my travel journey started on the city bus. I got on the one that stopped at the corner of my high school. A dead giveaway that I was skipping had any administrator just looked out the window. I was just excited to go somewhere I’d never gone so I didn’t consider any of that. Keeping in mind I’d never rode the city bus before, I had no clue how to get off, no destination if I did and had no idea how to get on another one.

We lived in the hood so I figured to not look like a target to what I thought were would-be thieves, I’d just sit there like I did this every day. I learned how to get off by watching others hit the button for their stop and caught on to how to transfer when one of the passengers getting on was arguing with the bus driver about it but didn’t have their ticket. I didn’t know where to go even if I did transfer so to avoid getting lost, I stayed on the same bus until it arrived at a stop I recognized not too far from my school. The ride lasted for hours, but I didn’t care. I enjoyed seeing parts of the city I’d never seen before, especially downtown, even if it was just Fort Worth, TX. I was glued to the window just like I was as a child riding around with my dad.

My step-dad was pretty mean to me in the beginning and always had me on the go. He made me tag along everywhere he went which wasn’t that bad to me since I didn’t like being around my mom. Unbeknownst to me, this was his way of keeping me in line. He never let me go anywhere and I wasn’t allowed to play sports in high school. I tried out for the track team, made it but couldn’t participate which made me so mad. I later found out from him, after high school, that he thought I was her bad, crack head sisters kid (she doesn’t have a crack head sister) and that I was just in denial when I told him she was my mom.

I remember he’d introduced me as her niece one day to his friends so I asked him why he said that. He told me because I was and was convinced I was lying when I said I wasn’t. He and I didn’t quite see eye-to-eye while I was in high school. We had what I thought was a weird, cool but not cool relationship because he was really fun but hard on me for some reason.

He also revealed to me (again, when I was older) the reason why was because he thought I was a juvenile delinquent who was always lying or being sneaky thanks to my mom. He said he never knew my mom had any kids besides my sister so of course she never planned for him to meet me. My sisters even thought I was adopted. They told me my mom told them not to say anything but because we were so close they did. It’s things like this I don’t understand about my mother. Until God says otherwise I never will and just have to accept it which is sometimes hard to do.

Back when I was 18 and in my senior year, my stepdad was upset at me over something my mother had lied to him about. This was pre-revelation of her lies to him. We got in a huge argument and he said I couldn’t go to prom. I’d worked really hard to save up money to pay for everything myself. I had two jobs in high school to make sure I never needed to ask them for anything financial so the argument got really intense.

By the time it was over he’d kicked me out the house. My mother had me pack a trash bag and took me to a hotel. She didn’t even try to convince him to let me stay, she just took me away. I was happy being gone and oddly enjoyed it. Being in the hotel made me feel like I was on a much needed vacation from my life. My stepdad ended up leaving to do his once a month service in the marines that weekend and since living in a hotel wasn’t cheap my mom brought me back after he left.

Before he returned I snuck out a window and ran away to a friends house. I never went back and still went to my prom. Once again, free and loving it! I wouldn’t see any of them again for a couple years after finding out my stepdad wanted to talk to me and apologize for everything he did. This was when he realized my mom had been lying to him and asked me to forgive him after seeing my birth certificate. He instantly became a rock in my life and the only true version of a parent I’d ever had. My sisters dad was always really cool too but he was just more involved since he was there for my teen years which made him more of a pillar. He and my mom stayed married a little longer so I talked to her off and on like nothing ever happened as usual. She denies anything he said about her.

Photo: Ross Parmly, Unsplash — Photo: Ross Parmly, *Unsplash*

When I was 19, I caught a couple more domestic flights between Chicago, Maine, and Massachusetts because I was married to a military guy. As always, I was all in when I got to fly. I felt elite because no one besides my mom and sister had ever rode a plane that I knew personally from our small town. My family viewed it as a thing white people did. But I viewed it as freedom. Until the plane touched the ground and I went back to my basic life. I had a typical military marriage that taught me a lot about relationships, the value of family and developed my sense of self in a way I never imagined by the time we were divorced.

My sons dad was very controlling so I never got to do anything unless he said I could. He told me how to dress, how to act, talk and even dictated who I could be friends with. I wasn’t allowed to work or hang out. I was so naive that I did whatever he said. People would tell me what he was doing with other women but he convinced me to never believe anyone but him and I did. I had no friends at one point and had shut off all family because he told me to. I felt like I was in a cult by the time the marriage was almost over and I’d started coming to my senses. I walked away with a three year old son and nothing to show for those five years of my life but some good life lessons that I’m very thankful for.

My son and I lived in a homeless shelter for two years which as bad as it may sound was an important building block on my path to getting back on my feet after my divorce. I had cancer while I was there and had it not been for the shelter I may not be here today. That’s a story you can read more about if you click here. It still amazes me to read it and I went through it!

My stepfather passed away in the Iraq war in 2007, while I was in the shelter and it felt like my heart got ripped out when my mom called to tell me. He was everything to me and it hurts like it happened yesterday if I think about it too long today. He’d separated from my mom by this time and was planning to take me with him and his family on a trip to Hawaii when he returned from Iraq. I still made that trip happen later in my life in his honor, twice.

Still in pursuit of my wanderlust journey by any means necessary, in my mid-twenties my son and I took a ride home to Georgia from Texas on the Greyhound bus. It was the absolute worst ride ever. It was almost twice as long as driving yourself with all the stops and very uncomfortable because of the lack of leg space and minimal ability to recline. Although horrific, I was still excited to be traveling. Even if it was just the bus.

I was peering out the window day and night although there wasn’t much to see. The itinerary of stops, which I’d never made on any of the drives back home with my parents were exciting to me. You’d think I was on a sightseeing tour even though all we did was stop for gas, food, a good stretch and to drop off or pick up more passengers. I just loved it all. If you can’t tell I enjoy travel in the smallest ways. It’s just fun to be on the go!

Fast-forward to the fall of 2009 when I rode the train from Texas to Oklahoma to do an egg donation. I was really excited because if never rode on a train besides the one at the fair. While I was working on my bachelor’s degree, I donated my eggs to women doing in-vitro fertilization which was quite an honor. It was my financial lifeline because I chose not to work so I could finish school with the least amount of stress possible. I’d given up college to get married and then again when I got divorced so I didn’t want anything to stop me this time.

I was considered an A+ donor so a couple in another state wanted my eggs. (I go into more details about the process, the one time I died from it and how many more children I have from my donations here.) I chose the train because the ride wasn’t much longer than driving. It was the most comfortable form of transportation I’d ever taken. The space you have on a train is unmatched whether traveling by car, bus or plane. Unless you own the car, bus or plane that is, but how many of us have it like that!

I was excited to check it off my modes of transportation list because I had aunts that lived in New York my whole life who would come home to Georgia for family reunions and funerals on the train when I was little. I was always so intrigued by how their ride was and what it was like so getting to experience it was mind-blowing. God was answering prayers! The seats on the train are extra wide and you have so much leg space you can almost recline flat with room to spare. Like always, I stared out the window the entire ride off and on enjoying my little travel comforts on a high that only those who truly love travel could understand.

Moving forward a few more years, some trials and tribulations and good life lessons later and you have my life now but at the beginning of my quest to travel internationally. I was working in corporate America by accident, just trying to pay off my student loans because I had gone back to college to get a double masters. It was just Gods plan for me to end up where I was. My job is actually what affords me the ability to travel like I do. As much as I wish some company paid for us to go, we pay for it ourselves, but I have some things in the works to change that soon.

When it comes to time off, another question I get asked quite often, our company (Jeremy and I both work for General Motors) is closed on all holidays and we have a great vacation package so I use it wisely. Our manufacturing plant shuts down for extended periods of time for maintenance which is how we take vacations that last two weeks or more. So I do nothing special to be off all the time, just following company rules lol!

I have a few other easy tricks anyone can do when time is a factor to going on trips. Also, be on the lookout for how to have a quick getaway anytime you need one! I also give a few of my travel hacks and some advice on how to make the most of layovers, how to travel cheap and sometimes even for free so don’t forget to read it. If you’re own my email list you’ll get an update as soon as I post it so sign up!

Graduation 2016, Double Masters, Texas Women’s Univ.

When I completed my double masters in the spring of 2016 I took my first international trip to China that summer with my new beau (Jeremy ❤️) on a journey to see all Seven New World Wonders. The Great Wall being the first. I had no reason to choose the seven wonders. I simply figured it would be cool to set a goal and see all seven. I was determined to finally start my international travel journey so I made it happen.

From there on out anyone who follows me on Instagram or wants to check out my page (@intheairwithblair) can see I’ve been going full steam ahead. Without counting, I’d guess we’ve been to 30 countries of the 195 total with a plan to eventually see them all. We’ve seen six of the seven wonders and will take a trip to the seventh no later than my 38th birthday (March 2020).

What started out as a life most of my family would’ve never encouraged me to live has turned into the best choice I could’ve ever made for myself. My biological dad passed away in 2018 and unfortunately never got to experience life. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him in a way because he let people create a fear in him that stopped him from living. He couldn’t see beyond his comfort zone so it confined him to spending decades of his life behind the four walls of his room in my grandmothers house until he died.

I plan to spread pieces of his ashes in the seas I across on my journeys as a way to give him back a little piece of what the world took from him. He may not have taught me a lot about the world or truly raised me like a parent should but his life showed why it’s important to face your fears and live. He may have missed the mark as a parent but he never left us regardless of all he was going through and even helped shape my love for adventure travel. I’m sure there were many times he wanted to leave but he didn’t and that I loved him for.

Now, if you’ve read this far, my goodness, THANK YOU!! Reading is not something people do as much of these days so I truly appreciate your interest in this long recap through parts of my life. Seriously! I’m sure after all that you can see why I’ve felt the need to see more, do more and be more in my life than just work, come home, cook, watch tv, go to sleep and do it all over again. I can’t just exist, I want to live!

There’s so much more I could indulge you in but for the sake of length, I’ll save those moments for another story. Thank you for reading and please check out the rest of my blog. I promise it’s gets juicier!

Support ya girl, share this story with others, Tyler Perry, Ava DuVernay or Lena Waithe might read it and make a movie!!