The years from 2018 through 2023 beat me up good; 2020–2022 were especially brutal. And no matter how you slice it, 2021and my time in the Dominican Republic landed right smack dab in the middle of those stormy years.

In a way, it’s hard to look back on the trip because I was so damn sad. I remember feeling like a shell of myself. Trying to access joy while carrying enormous grief, betrayal, and uncertainty. It felt like my life had collapsed. I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side nor how to get there either.

My trip to the Dominican was an attempt to help myself pull through. It was the first international trip I ever took solo. To say I was terrified would be an understatement. It may not have been the ideal moment to test my independence, but it’s what I did lol and dare I say, it worked? 🤷‍♀️

Punta Cana was beautiful. No, actually… gorgeous. It perked me right up. I let the sun shine on me. I ate. I drank. I swam. I explored. I relaxed. I danced. I felt joy. I laughed. I had fun! It was one of the first times I felt capable of surviving all that was coming at me. And that I could not just survive but thrive. I still had a ways to go once I got home, but this trip lit a spark. It gave me a hint of hope. Some pep in my step. It was a reminder that there was still something worth reaching for.

And special shoutout to Juan – my butler (don’t ask me how I got a butler because I have no idea lol), unofficial bodyguard, and practically the only person I spoke to all week – who looked out for me, especially in a moment that could have gone very wrong. I’ll never forget that kindness.

Also, a quick word on storms: they end. Not always quickly, not always gracefully, and rarely without scars, but they do end. Just gotta ride the wave, even when it feels unsteady and like holding on for dear life. I think I’ve learned that’s most of the battle.