This time last year, Tough Mudder was not part of my vocabulary, nor was it a thought that crossed my mind. I have never watched it, or knew anyone who has completed one. Fast forward to January 2018, I got bucked off a horse in Costa Rica, and was lying down on the bed of our apartment hopped up on
This has taken me a long time to really put down in writing. My son can talk about this event like it was nothing, yet for me, it was traumatic and still brings tears to my eyes. Phuket, Thailand had been on my radar for years, between the wild backpacking stories, and the crazy beach cocktails and parties my friends
Why are you moving? A basic question that most will answer in a basic, for “a job” response. This is the answer so many people give me when I ask them whey they are packing up, and moving abroad, or across the country. It is simple, easy, and most people don’t press any further, except for me, it is my
Moving around was never easy, it came with a lot of baggage and consequences. When people ask “where are you from? or what was your favourite country?” I feel like a whole host of conflicted feelings arise, and I never know how to shut down the conversation before it can even start, because once the conversation starts, it might
I guess you could say, I was born to travel. I mean, it is sort of in my DNA. My Father grew up as an original Third Culture Kid. Born into an Air Force family, he moved from England, France, Morocco and Syracuse. When he joined Foreign Affairs, he and my Mother instantaneously began to move and travel. At one
I am not exactly sure when I became aware of my skin colour, my identity, my accent, my Father’s unique job or even my birth country and how obviously out of place it all was to my surroundings. One move seemed to blend into another. The only thing I seemed to know, was how to navigate new schools, and airports.
