Sending lots of love from around the world! Still haven’t quite adjusted to the time change but I’m currently at my grandparents’ apartment in Korea where I’ll be for the next few weeks before really beginning my solo backpacking. Its pouring out which canceled my early morning game of badminton against my grandma (which probably saved me from a good ass kicking..) but did give me time to finally get on here.

So I wrote this while on the plane Friday-Saturday to flush out some thoughts and well figured I’d share… (I feel like I was treading through an influx of feelings and well that might be exactly how this is articulated haha)

Location: In the air, about 5 hours outside of Seoul, Korea… with a little bit of turbulence… (but hey I love a good roller coaster)

It’s a peculiar thing coming home after living on your own. Throughout my years at the University of Miami (arguably the best four years of my life to date) I spent the majority of my winter and summer breaks in Miami, working for the best sports franchise in the nation (okay, so maybe I’m a bit biased.) And while I missed Christmas with the family and time with old friends from high school, Miami enthralled me and became a place I truly call home. It enticed me with the fierce independence it forced me to develop. It embraced and helped flourish my quirky individuality. It seduced me with its art, music, food, nightlife and its lively, loud and spontaneous culture… not to mention its Cuban coffee. It opened my eyes to new people, new perspectives and new understandings.

So coming back home to the suburban of all suburban towns, in the state where pizza and bagels are second to none, and back to living with my parents for the past three weeks has been an adjustment. (And I don’t really mean this in the way that I feel like I was under “parental supervision,” though the walk of shaming is way realer coming home to mom making breakfast than it is to your apartment with hung-over roommates.) But I say adjustment in a sense that the way I see my hometown, which no longer really feels like a familiar place, and the way I see my parents has shifted.

This was the first time in four years that I got to spend over a week with my parents and the first time I began to really see them as well humans. Through stories at lunch with my mom, I saw the 22 year-old versions of them… the newlywed versions, the new parent versions.. and now the empty nest versions.. The funny thing was, they weren’t new stories, but my listening had somehow shifted within the past four years. I began to understand all the losses and wins they went through together and continue to go through together, the experiences that forged their wisdom became tangible and relatable.

I began to listen to the way I spoke to them, sometimes so harshly, in ways that I would never speak to anyone else, forgetting time and again that they were people just like me, with feelings, experiences and dreams like my own, who were for the first time aging before my eyes. I saw my dad, day in and day out, still working his ass off to support our family, sacrificing his health and time to entertain clients, taking long and exhausting business trips, in order to send all of his kids to school without leaving us with any loans to pay off and without knowing much want. I saw my mom, still pouring her heart into caring for us, making sure we are well fed, waking up each morning at 5 am to go to morning prayer to pray for all of us. And for the first time I realized how my choices, which I’ve always felt entitled to make in leading “my” life, affected and continue to affect them…

I am beyond grateful for the extraordinary human beings my parents are. My mom has said it over and over again these past two weeks as I’ve been preparing for my trip, “You’re crazy for going alone… and I’m crazier for letting you go.”

The really beautiful thing about my parents is this: they love me and support me DESPITE how they feel about my decisions, despite how it affects their dreams for me or their personal feelings or experiences.

They have never agreed with all of my choices and yet despite this, they’ve supported me in all of my endeavors. See at first, I couldn’t get over the fact that they didn’t agree with some of my decisions. Why couldn’t they see why certain things were so important to me, why couldn’t they love the things I loved so much? I thought to myself, what kinds of parents don’t love and believe in what their child is passionate about? It frustrated me and for a time hurt me. Then I realized, despite how they felt, they’ve supported me to the best of their ability in every one of my dreams, “despite” being the key word. I believe it takes more love, more selflessness and understanding to “despite” their personal feelings or sentiments, support something they don’t agree with or believe in simply because they LOVE me, all of me and my at times selfish aspirations.

And well this trip is no different. It is absolutely selfish of me to venture to the other side of the world and leave my parents at home worrying for the next four months, and for that I am so sorry. Yet despite their feelings on this trip, they are letting me go without further arguments. (Not that I gave them much choice because well I can be a stubborn ass.) Despite their feelings on this trip, they stayed up all night with me last night helping me pack. Despite how they feel about this trip, they gave me a little extra spending cash just in case. Despite how they feel about this trip, both my parents drove me to the airport at 3 a.m., told me to be safe, to be kind to my grandparents during the time I spend with them, to learn and grow a lot, to live my adventure as I please, hugged me tightly and sent me off.

Everyone keeps saying how fearless I must be to go to the other side of the world alone. Parents of friends look at me wide-eyed and tell me how brave I must be… and maybe I’ve put on a brave face. The truth is though I am not fearless at all. My brother called me this morning during my layover in San Francisco and said, “You sound nervous.”

And to that I answered, “I am.” I am nervous.
Hell, I’m scared shitless. I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life.

Not just for the traveling solo part, for I know the dangers are real and that there will be times I get lonely… but more so for the unknown path ahead… and I mean this beyond the backpacking.

For the first time in my life, one that has always involved tons of planning, analyzing and goal setting, (*which is not a bad thing), there is no preview to this new chapter, no chapter summary, no one that’s read it before to clue me in on how it will unfold…

What lies ahead is a path untraveled with no clear “destination,” and no map to tell me the right way to venture on. And yet for the first time, I am able to focus on just the present, extraordinary moment, to create my path step by step and really be in the listening to what may open up. No thesis to finish writing. No project on InDesign to finish. No dance to clean. Just the Here and Now.

Yes I am nervous, yes I am scared, but never have I been more excited. You know that feeling when you reach the top of a new roller coaster, right before the first big drop, when your stomach is filled with tons of butterflies and adrenaline is kicking in, and you can’t help but be a little scared (even though you are fastened quite tightly and you will surely make it out alive and wanting another go around)…and well whether you are ready or not there’s literally no turning back? That’s about the best way I can describe how I am feeling right now.

To everyone who’s encouraged me to take this adventure, to leap out of my comfort zone and get comfortable with the uncomfortable, whether it was in a brief meeting or multiple conversations, my gratitude is unending.