I am three weeks to the day away from making my second move to a new continent, only this time it will be with my (soon-to-be) husband. While you may assume that I am in a complete state of euphoria and excitement, allow me to assure you that I’m actually caught up in a complete cyclone of emotions.
“New year, new me.” Yeah, right. Am I right? I know we are only a few days into 2017, but according to the Journal of Clinical Psychology, approximately 50% of the population makes resolutions each New Year and yet most of those resolutions fail within weeks. Some of the most common resolutions include weight loss, exercise, stopping smoking, better money management, and debt reduction.
Words cannot describe how “over” presents I am. Not because I don’t enjoy or appreciate sentimental, useful, or thoughtful gifts, but because people waste so much money on useless items for others because they feel obligated to, especially around holidays, birthdays, and days of the year highlighted by the marketing departments of corporations like Hallmark and Nestlé.
My passion for traveling started at a very young age. From traveling to my dad’s every other weekend of my life, to family trips to the beach and/or mountains, to taking my first solo flight out west when I was 18, my appetite for new sites and experiences never ceases. My capability to travel, however, started at my alma mater – Western Kentucky University.
Death is funny in the sense that no one gets to escape it. Some may dodge it, battle it for far too long, or possibly even look forward to it, but ultimately we are all taken by it in the end.
For the words that escaped me in the moment:
Thank you. Thank you for loving me so intensely and intentionally that you would get down on one knee after asking for my family’s blessing, and then asking me to be your wife. I do not now, nor will I ever, take this lightly.