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As a child, writing came as easy to me as breathing. I was always lost in a whirl of imagination, creating stories and dialogues for the physical world around me. I wanted to write children’s books initially, but as I transitioned into adulthood, I was determined to see my name in the stacks of books I carried of my favorite authors. Unfortunately, not every dream can survive when the foundations beneath us crumble. Through a devastating first year of college, having to move home and tend to a family falling apart from an ugly divorce, developing unhealthy codependent relationships, and having a pulmonary embolism at the young age of 23, I lost my way. Not only my way, but I lost my voice entirely.

I restarted my writing journey in 2013 during my first international travels through Germany, Paris, Amsterdam, and ending in Dublin. I had a journal permanently in tow, but it was the sending of postcards that really ignited the connection within myself and my surroundings. I set the goal to send fifty postcards during my month of being gone. Not only did it revive my love for snail mail, but it taught me the power of intention in what we share and why. It also taught me what happens when we open your heart and share a piece of our experience with others. I maintain this practice to this day and have sent over 300 postcards to friends, family, and even a few strangers around the world. You can read more about using Postcards as a Writing Process on Medium.

While writing has always been synonymous to my travels, in 2016 it became a means of healing from sexual trauma and PTSD. My therapist wanted to find constructive outlets so I turned to creation. I took up weaving, started painting again, and rediscovered my fierce love for the written word. While writing a series of love stories on Medium, I finally came out publicly about my assault. My heart sank as I hit publish, but when I woke up the next morning, my inbox was flooded with hundreds of messages from women (and men) who had suffered just like me. In that crucial moment, I knew my voice had the ability to resonate with others. I finally understood the power of our words and their ability to always find the common thread in our humanity.

I will never claim to be an expert in writing, but I am as passionate as they come. I believe writing is beneficial for our personal wellbeing and a deeper exploration both within and around us. I’m also amazed by how easy it is to connect with people across the world at any given moment. By sharing our experiences openly, we have the power to bring people together from all walks of this earthly experience.

As I enter my third decade of life, I’ve asked myself how I can use my experiences to connect with and elevate the lives of others. Not only to help the people I meet in my travels, but to expand the horizons of those who have been living vicariously through my writings all these years. After organizing a week-long trip in Bali for a splendid group of humans I met in Iceland earlier in the year, I realized this is where I want to be.

I used to think travel was all about the destination, but now I realize it’s the people who make all the difference. Whether it’s a stranger you meet on a slow boat along the river or a family who invites you into their home despite the language or cultural barriers, the people along the way become the shining light of all. Which is why it’s so important to me to share future travels with the people in my life as well as those I have yet to meet. To bring as many others who are curious about the world into the fold so they too can witness the magic I’ve been so fortunate to experience in abundance.

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