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Writing my first book took four years. Four years of trial and error, self-discovery, and conquering the terrifyingly real fear of putting myself out there for the world to see. And being judged for it. I always say it’s the equivalent of giving a speech butt naked in front of a crowded room. Emotionally naked. Vulnerable. And there’s nothing more satisfying than accomplishing, overcoming, triumphing, and holding my own creation … a book … my book … in my hands.
Tangible fruition of a dream.
Little did I know big dream one (writing a book, or three) would spontaneously birth big dream two (traveling the world).
“While I was in Granada, I had a lot of time to myself. Sure, I spent time with my wonderful roommates and family and went to classes, but I’d say there were a solid 4 hours a day that I had to myself. Considering that the past 6 weeks of my life had been filled to brim with going places, meeting new people and trying new foods, my life felt a little emptier than before. This is where La Gran Vía came into play.”
“So often I feel consumed with obsessing over all the things I want or need, or the things I need to change. Of course that motivation and constant drive leads me to great things, but I think in this moment, on that church pew, with Kevin’s shadow projected across the white walls, I learned to find peace and happiness along the way; to be totally happy with where I am in the moment while still understanding and being ok with all the things I am working towards. I felt comfortable in my loneliness, in my skin, and in my position in the world.”