About Me

A Not-So-Innocent Suggestion

In October of 2020, my BFF and I were on vacation in Cancun. As we were lounging under the shade of a tiki umbrella, drinking virgin mango margaritas, my BFF suddenly turned to me and announced, “You know, you really should share your travel advice. You could help a lot of people.”

And I said back, “Huh. Well, it’s just that I have so many other things going on . . . ” Which was true, and she knew it.

That didn’t stop her from staring at me like I couldn’t see the nose on my face.

So, I collected my virgin mango margarita and carefully carried it into the clear Caribbean. I floated around in the perfectly warm water, slowly sipping my drink while I gave my BFFs suggestion some consideration.

Ultimately I Decided She Had a Point

As I bobbed around in the Caribbean Sea, I considered the long, winding and at times confusing journey I’d taken that had landed me on a beach in Cancun.

We were, after all, supposed to be in Egypt.

Then I allowed my normally tidy thoughts to spiral.

Was my BFF right? Could my travel knowledge or life experiences encourage people to step out of their comfort zone and try something new?

Two Truths

It’s true that I’ve seen a huge chunk of the world, and most of it without confirmed airplane tickets (I’m a flight attendant, I fly space available).

It’s also true that I managed to shrug off an unstable childhood to overcame the odds.

Theoretically I should be a “statistic”.

An Exciting Beginning

When I was six, my parents moved our growing family to a small town in the middle of Utah. This move seemed like a great idea and a grand adventure! My dad, a newly minted General Contractor, was building our family a brand new house and starting his own business!

Our house was a one-of-a-kind special design. My dad didn’t want anyone copying his plans, so he mapped the house out on a scrap of wood and then BURNED IT!

It was the 80’s, you could get away with stuff like that. It was a very exciting time.

My dad was a man with a plan. He believed this small town in the middle of Utah would be the perfect place to jumpstart his brand new General Contractor business. His beautiful, self-designed, self-built house would be an endorsement of his work.

Why Must All Stories Have Tragedy?

Four years after we moved to the small town in the middle of Utah my parents lost everything, including their one-of-a-kind house AND my dad’s exciting construction business.

Within nine years of our big move, my dad would die from a lethal form of brain cancer.

A Note About My Dad

My dad was born in White Sands, New Mexico when they were testing the atomic bomb. I don’t know if that had anything to do with the brain tumor he would eventually die from, but it seems a little suspicious to me. 

My dad suffered from a seizure disorder. By the time they figured out what was causing the seizures, it was too late to do much for him. He had two brain tumors, a liquid tumor the size of a grapefruit and a solid tumor the size of an orange. The tumors were removed but grew back bigger. He passed away when he was 36, leaving five kids behind. 

Incidentally, anyone who knew my dad will tell you he could do anything. I’m not making that up. I personally saw him build a house without house plans, perform a jack-knife dive into a swimming pool, rebuild a car engine before YouTube, and walk on his hands across the top of a swingset.

I wish soooo badly that my dad had lived to see the big Utah building boom. I have no doubt he would have made a fortune and a huge name for himself.

I’ve Lived Most of My Life in Perpetual Fear

It was hard being a kid and dealing with my dad’s illness and death. To make things even more complicated, mental illness and alcoholism are also prevalent in my family. In fact, for most of my life, I’ve felt like I was drowning in the wake of other people’s undiagnosed mental disorders.

Because of the instability all around me, until quite recently I’ve lived my life perpetually worried about “What Uncontrollable Thing is About to Happen Next”.

Would you care to know some of the things I’ve been afraid of? This list isn’t inclusive:

• grown-ups
• strangers
• most of my family members
• teachers
• animals (pets or strays)
• car drives
• people who scream
• kidnappers
• money
• debt
• mice
• strange food
• uncontrolled anger
• the dark
• alcohol
• drugs
• police officers
• doctors
• dentists
• mean girls
• spending money on Sunday
• vacuum cleaners
• escaped convicts
• The Three Nephites
• walking alone during the day or the night
• any type of repair people
• The Jehovah’s Witnesses

You shouldn’t be too surprised to learn that for most of my life I’ve suffered from severe anxiety. I’ve even struggled through a nasty bout of PTSD. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

How Does One Get So Frightened?

Although I’m naturally optimistic and curious, I grew up viewing the world through a lens of total fear.

Can you blame me?

I watched my parents, who were so full of hope and excitement, lose everything they worked for.

Then my dad died a painful death at a very young age.

Living in poverty made these frightening experiences much, much scarier.

Growing Up in Fear

My childhood was not fun.

From as far back as my memory goes, I lived in constant fear of being alone with my dad when he had a seizure. It wasn’t clearly explained how we should help him, or what we should do. He had seizures with me several times and, I admit, it was scary for a kid to deal with.

That fear quadrupled when I realized my dad really was going to die.

When I was told that my dad’s cancer was terminal, I had no idea how we would survive financially. We had no money with my dad alive and I was fully aware the outstanding hospital bills were adding up.

We got our food from the church and our clothes came from the thrift store. Thankfully we qualified for free school lunch.

Please don’t vote for government representatives who try to take away free school breakfast or lunch. I’m here to tell you, some kids rely on it.

I’ll never forget standing in the cemetery under the big tree the day we buried my dad. It was a cloudy, gloomy, rainy day and I remember thinking, “What happens now? How will we ever survive this?”

His loss felt bigger than the world itself.

I Assumed My Life Would Follow the Same Path

As I watched my parents struggle and suffer, I imagined my own grown-up life would be similar; living in a trailer, hoping I would qualify for food stamps and calculating how many kids I should have in order to make sure they were eligible for free school lunch.

I even imagined myself buying school clothes I couldn’t afford at the thrift store.

Summertime was UNBEARABLE

I almost think this poverty/illness/death situation wouldn’t have been so bad if we lived in a bigger city where there were things to do to take my mind off how terrible life was. Or to show a little perspective on how different life could be.

Although I must say when my dad died, the folks in our small town were astonishing. The kindness, compassion and love they showed our family is something I’ll never forget. For anyone reading this who was around when my dad died, thank you again for helping my family during a really terrible time, and please know I pay your kindness foward every chance I get.

Trapped

I was the kind of kid who loved to be busy! If my schedule had been full of dance, gymnastics, cheerleading, volleyball, softball, summer camp, piano lessons, playdates, swimming lessons, sleepovers, babysitting, summer school, learning opportunities, exploration and visits to far-away relatives, I would have found childhood to be AMAZING!

I won the Spelling Bee in 4th and 5th grade. I wrote the legislature to get more funding for our school libraries. I was that kind of kid.

Instead, the small town I grew up in had a tiny post office, a park and a pioneer cemetery. Occasionally someone would open up a general store, but those stores never lasted, and it’s not like any of us had money to spend anyway.

There was church on Sunday and once a month the Bookmobile would roll through. I LIVED for Tuesday night church activities. Or literally anything that broke up the monotony.

I felt trapped in this small town. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. The closest bigger town with a swimming pool and public library was almost ten miles away. Unfortunately, there was no extra money for gas to be taking vanity trips, and there certainly wasn’t a local bus we could hop on.

The days, especially in the summer, went by sooooo slowly. The only entertainment was cleaning the house, which I can tell you from experience was torture, not entertainment.

I’ll be honest, for a kid who desperately wanted to experience everything, my childhood was miserable.

After one particularly terrible afternoon of cleaning, right before my dad’s cancer diagnosis (I was about thirteen) I remember laying on the lawn in our front yard and staring up at the sky, wishing I would either die or be twinkled into the City of Enoch. 

Life felt bleak. And boring.

And Then the Anxiety Appeared

All the drama and uncertainty throughout my younger years left me with a severe and undiagnosed anxiety disorder that I would suffer from for a good portion of my life. 

After my dad died, I was thrust into life without many skills. I went into the world believing that life was frightening, those you love will die a painful death, there is never, ever, ever enough money and education isn’t really all that important, especially if you’re a girl.

I also stepped out into the world with a very unfortunate religious belief that my choices didn’t actually matter, life is pre-ordained.

Apparently I had the pre-ordained crappy version of life. I doubted it would get much better.

But . . . Some Good Happened!

College

Somehow I managed to get myself through college . . . and I was the first college graduate on either side of my family, EVER!

Education is important. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Becoming a Flight Attendant

Shortly after graduating from college, I felt like my life was finally on track. After some career research, I decided I wanted to be a “Flight Attendant Recruiter” or a “Chief Flight Attendant.”

As it turns out those are not jobs you can just apply for off the street. You have to be a Flight Attendant first. So, I applied with the only airline hiring flight attendants that week, and I found myself in Ground School fourteen days later.

Although I originally planned to work for a bigger company, no other airline consistently hired flight attendants during my first eight years. By the time I reached ten years at my current airline, I had no desire to go back through Ground School or be on Reserve, thus I’m happily a lifer working for an airline I love. 

And then PTSD Joined Anxiety

Just as I started to shake off my irrational fear beliefs and began to believe life might turn out okay after all, l found myself in an abusive relationship. As the relationship ended, my anxiety tripled, my fears multiplied and I developed a bad case of PTSD.

I also felt a little angry. I’d done my part, why wouldn’t life go right?

I’d Followed All the Rules

All I’d ever wanted was a happy, no-drama life. In fact, I’d done all the things I was “supposed” to do to get a happy, no-drama life. I was educated, well-read, well-traveled and well-spoken. I was kind and polite, considerate and helpful. Most of all I was fun and easy-going.

I’d followed all the rules. I should NOT have ended up in an abusive relationship. I couldn’t understand HOW I’d ended up in an abusive relationship.

My Life Stalled

PTSD hit me hard. My growth and development stopped. It was excruciating and debilitating.

I couldn’t have gotten PTSD at a worse time. I was trying to get a book published, I was starting a writing competition, I had big trips planned, I was ready to buy a house and I’d become an instructor at the airline I was working for.

My promising life stalled.

I stopped working on my book. I abandoned my writing competition. I resigned as an instructor.

It was too heavy to carry. It was all too much.

For about six months, unless I was actually at work, I spent most of my time staring at the ceiling. For someone who’d spent their entire life on-the-go, this ceiling-staring seemed like strange behavior. It was also completely out of my control.

I now realize my brain and body shut down. I needed a little quiet time to heal.

A Gap in My Memory

Trauma will do crazy things to your brain.

I don’t remember most of 2012, which is too bad because apparently it was a very exciting year. I bought a house, traveled to a bunch of amazing places around the world and I met Alex.

I wouldn’t believe any of this happened except I have a mortgage, pictures of places I barely remember visiting and when I came back to life in 2013 I was living in Alex’s house . . . and the house I bought was being rented out.

Somehow through this brain-haze, I kept working. I kept traveling. I kept healing. And I kept believing that there was something better and happier out there for me.

The Artist’s Way

In 2015 I stumbled across a book called The Artist’s Way. Without knowing anything about the book, except it claimed to help writers work through emotional trauma, I jumped in with both feet. 

It took about two years of hard emotional and brain retraining, but the book healed me from the inside out. I haven’t suffered from PTSD since 2015 and I now get anxious feelings like a normal person. Best of all, that big list of fears that held me back now seems quite silly.

Why would anyone be afraid of the Jehovah’s Witnesses? For Real.

If I Can Overcome, I GUARANTEE YOU CAN TOO

I share these experiences with you not because I want your pity, but because I want you to know I’ve experienced both good and bad throughout my life. There are lots and lots of people who’ve had it way worse, but looking back I can see that I overcame some pretty significant obstacles to build a life that has both surprised and thrilled me!

Statistically, I shouldn’t have escaped poverty or completed college. It’s a major miracle I never turned to alcohol to deal with my anxiety disorder. Overcoming PTSD without therapy or drugs? Dude, that’s a feat in itself.

In fact, if I had a time machine I’d go back and tell my thirteen-year-old self laying in the grass, wishing for death, to hold her head up. The World Wonders are wonderful and worth the wait.

I’d also slip her some cash to spend at the General Store. Haha.

Everything Worked Out Just Fine

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I know I just shared a sob story with you, but please don’t spend even one second feeling bad for me. All of those unpleasant experiences feel like they happened to a different person in another life. In fact, most people I know today are shocked to learn that I’ve ever been anything but optimistic, excited and ready for adventure.

Most people also think I was born and raised in Southern California! Ha! I’ve fooled them!

If I’m being honest, I can’t really relate to that sad, scared, anxious, frightened person I once was.

In fact, everything worked out just fine. Alex (who is an excellent photographer and helps with the photos on this site) and I work hard and we play hard. Although we both grew up underprivileged, we both managed to get through college and work in careers we love.

We’re both also incredibly grateful for where we are today . . . and we make it a point to always remember our humble beginnings.

Our dog, Timber, is spoiled. She’s also perpetually on the look out for “richer parents.” I guess “Wanting More” is an ingrained animal behavior. Haha.

The Actual Truth

The truth is, if I, a perpetually frightened kid who grew up in the middle of nowhere can somehow overcome poverty, cancer, death of a parent, poor life choices, poor relationship choices, PTSD and severe anxiety and STILL travel the world . . . without airplane tickets . . . I have no doubt you can overcome whatever you’re allowing to hold you back that’s keeping you from accomplishing whatever it is you want to do. 

This site isn’t necessarily about MY travels, and it isn’t just about travel. I’ve tried to weave in suggestions about the baby steps you can take to overcome your fears, whatever they may be.

I sincerely hope you’re able to dig deep inside yourself to figure out WHO you want to be and HOW you can go about being that person.

If I can do it, so can you. 

I believe in you.

The world is a big, exciting place. I dare you to experience all of it by learning The Art of Travel.

I Guess My BFF Deserve Props

I suppose my BFF was right. I do have something to share.

Because of her suggestion I wrote an 80,000 word document about travel.

That’s basically a full book.

I owe her a virgin Bahama Mama.