I don’t wait for someone to take me places; I take myself, because my dreams are too big to stay in one place. Growing up in a small town, I learned early on that the world was vast and filled with possibilities. As a child, I would gaze at the stars, imagining far-off lands and thrilling adventures. My dreams refused to be confined by the boundaries of familiarity.

When I was old enough, I bought a map, pinned it to my wall, and marked all the places I longed to visit. Paris for its romance, Tokyo for its dizzying blend of tradition and innovation, Patagonia for its wild, untouched beauty. I saved every penny, working odd jobs and sacrificing comfort for the thrill of exploration.

The first time I boarded a plane, my heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement. Stepping into a new city, surrounded by unfamiliar sounds and smells, I felt alive in a way I never had before. Each journey taught me more about myself—the resilience I didn’t know I possessed, the kindness of strangers, and the joy of discovering hidden corners of the world.

Now, years later, my passport is worn, and my heart is full. I’ve learned that waiting for someone to take me places means caging my spirit. So I forge my own path, chasing sunsets across continents, knowing that my dreams are too big to stay in one place. And with each step, I find pieces of myself scattered across the globe.