Why I Travel
Updated: Nov 11, 2020
I think I was born with wanderlust. As a kid, I always had an active imagination, spending my free time writing novels or creating elaborate games of make-believe. Traveling to other worlds always preoccupied me.
As I grew up, I indulged this desire to escape reality through theater and reading. I never traveled outside the country, and while my restlessness never truly went away, it did go into hibernation. I had plans of studying abroad or serving on missions trips, but the logical part of me always rationalized these fantasies away—money and time were always in short supply.
When it came time to commit to a college, I went to a public, in-state school to save money. Tucked away in the middle of nowhere, I began to dream of doing something “crazy”—unlike anything I had ever done before. So one Saturday night, while the rest of the campus was partying, I was in my room researching other universities. A few months later, I had been accepted to the University of North Carolina and I was off to experience some of the greatest years of my life, far from home and figuring things out for myself. I met my best friends there (who are still my best friends to this day), and my life adventure partner, Andrew. This move symbolized the first time I had taken a chance, had made a decision without knowing what the outcome might be, and it was a liberating and heady feeling.