The year is two thousand and twenty. And, while I certainly cannot predict what the future holds, I intend on making the absolute most of it.
2019 proved to be a year dedicated towards pushing my limits, both physical and emotional. Nearly each month awaited a new uphill battle to prove my strength. It left me a little beat up and a lot tired, finding myself curled up on the floor praying for the strength to just get through, on more than one occasion, paralleled with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment on other days. Through it all, I’ve learned that each step is a choice to keep going or turn around.
After weeks of deliberating, 2020 will begin with my first solo trip. This decision didn’t come lightly. I put several flights on temporary hold and stacked my AirBnB wish lists with various stays across the United States. The options faded away, booking out or pricing out. I was scared, unwilling to admit to myself that I couldn’t muster the courage to actually go somewhere without a companion. But recent life events have caused me to question my own pathway, feeling like a cliché Robert Frost poem.
With one more flight on hold, and AirBnB stays narrowed down to only two choices, this morning I woke up and resolved to face my fears. I need perspective. I need time to think. Most importantly, I need to get some real distance. I’m going to Charleston, South Carolina, the place of “Southern Charm” (at least that’s what Bravo! promises). Travel + Leisure even rated Charleston No. 1 in the Best United States Cities category, seven years in a row.
Click, click, all booked, nonrefundable. There’s no turning back now.