Figure T8

Don’t know the next route you want to take in your life’s journey. Do you feel stuck? Good I did too.

It wasn’t until I started traveling that my perspective shifted. Back in high school, I thought there were only two paths after graduation: go to college or get a job. Both are valid options—but I chose neither. What called to me was freedom. The freedom to explore, to wander, to learn through experience.

Sure, I was uncertain. I had every logical reason to doubt my decision. That uncertainty was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. But the truth that helped me commit was simple: I had nothing to lose. I was young, and still am, with time to take risks and explore the unknown. I didn’t want a two-week vacation. I wanted to see the world. To live it.

I was fortunate to have a supportive family, even if my journey was a bit different than others. I noticed then, and even more so now, how much pressure there is to have life “figured out” by 18. But through my travels, I learned that it’s a fantasy. No one has it all figured out—not at 18, not at any age. What I needed then, and what many need now, was space to explore and guidance from someone who had walked a similar path.

“Hey, what’s your plan after school?” I heard that question more times than I can count. I wanted to pursue my passions, but I lacked the support and know-how. I didn’t need a list of colleges or job openings. I didn’t need opinions. I needed clarity into my life—and I wasn’t going to find it by doing what everyone else was doing.

That’s why I’m here now. To be a resource for those who want to take a different route. To explore what you truly value. Looking back, I see how crucial it is to have someone who can point you in the right direction, who encourages you to lead with your heart. Someone who sees you for who you are and helps you find your way. Someone who’s been there. Like that mirror of a man, I met in Costa Rica.

I was a strong student throughout school. But by sophomore year, something shifted. Maybe it was burnout—or maybe I was finally waking up to the truth: I’d been chasing a dream that wasn’t mine. I was living a life shaped by expectations, not intention. Seeking approval, not alignment.

I didn’t know what I truly wanted. But I felt the pressure to appear as if I did. So, I packed my schedule: honors and AP classes, academic programs, elite-level soccer, part-time work. I followed the formula for success. On the surface, I was thriving. But underneath, I was overwhelmed and disconnected.

I was running on empty. Driven not by passion, but by pressure. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of myself.

Despite strong academic performance and a GPA that could have opened doors to most universities, I felt something was missing. I felt hollow. So, I made a quiet decision: I wasn’t going to college. I didn’t apply. I didn’t take the SAT or ACT. I didn’t tour a single campus. I just wanted to graduate—and pause. To breathe. To begin listening inward.

Let me be clear: college can be amazing. If you have a specific career path that requires a degree, go for it. I felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of possibilities for what I could do with my life—it was as if a million options were staring back at me. In moments of doubt and uncertainty, we tend to retreat to what’s familiar—often following the crowd. College can be expensive, and too many people graduate with debt and a degree they no longer want.

Why don’t we take time to reflect before rushing into something we’re unsure about?

Some call it a gap year. For me, it turned into many. I’ve traveled solo, in duos, and in groups. Each experience was different, but all were deeply fulfilling. Most people want to travel—they just think it’s never the “right time” or they don’t know how. I’m here to tell you: it’s possible. And it’s worth it.

Traveling changed my life. Not just because of the places I visited, but because of the journey within. It put me on a whole new trajectory. I learned real-life skills: how to live on my own, budget, book flights, manage finances, navigate public transportation, find accommodations, talk to strangers, break bad habits, put my phone down—and most importantly, how to handle freedom. I began refining myself. It felt right.

Among the digital nomads, volunteers, exchange workers, semester-abroad students, vacationers, backpackers, and expats—I became a blend of them all.

I funded my first three-month trip to Costa Rica by working during and after my senior year of high school. Living at home, I saved $5,000—enough, I thought, for one month. But I made it last three. Maybe it was my frugal habits, the season, the inexpensive plane ticket or the mentor I met who taught me about life. I spent little, but gained something priceless: purpose. What I had been searching for. I felt alive. Travel opened that door.

So, let me ask you this: whether or not you want to travel—what do you want to make of your life? What are your passions? Your gifts? That dream you can’t quite name yet?

Let’s go after that. Let’s chase those internal riches. The kind of life where you wake up grateful to be alive. Travel opened my eyes. And I believe it can for you too.

If you’re ready to take the road less traveled—the one that’s uniquely yours, the one that follows your heart—follow my journey.