The Goal Was 50 States and 63 National Parks…
But then 2020 started 2020ing.
I don’t even remember how old I was when I learned you could drive to Alaska—but ever since, I’ve wanted to do it. The timing just never felt right. There was always a reason, an excuse, or something else getting in the way. Finally, in 2020, I was ready. This was going to be my birthday trip.
I had spreadsheets. I had dates. I was getting all the right gear. I had everything lined up.
And then 2020 2020ed, and there went my perfectly planned road trip across the country.
Every year after, I revisited the idea.
In 2021, I tested the waters with a long-weekend birthday road trip, only to realize I wasn’t ready for post-pandemic travel.
2022 brought a different set of life challenges. Even though I could’ve used the trip that year, it still wasn’t the right time.
2023: “This is the year!”
I was sure of it. But I’ve always said, “When Haiti goes to the World Cup, I’m going”— so when their Women’s National Team qualified, I just had to follow them to Australia.
So much for the road trip.
2024? Surely my birthday trip.
Nope! I was invited to a wedding in Nigeria.
Visiting Africa is a dream for many people of African descent living in the Americas—and I was no different.
Instead of planning a cross-country drive, I was helping get folks travel-ready for Nigeria and preparing my own West African adventure: Nigeria, Benin Republic, Togo, and Ghana.
That June journey was everything I’d hoped for.
Setting foot on African soil hits you differently.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve heard many Haitians can trace their roots back to the Benin Republic, but the way I connected with Benin was beyond words.
I came home in late June, expecting a soft landing back into Florida life…
but I had no idea what was ahead.
If you’d told me in June what I’d be doing by year’s end, I wouldn’t have believed it.
But as summer wore on, I knew my lease was ending in September—and I wasn’t interested in renewing.
I was earnestly looking for a home—then that pie-in-the-sky explorer thought crept in:
What if I didn’t move to another home… but to the entire planet?
It sounded far-fetched. I didn’t know anyone who’d ever done it.
I started packing because I intended to move, but my diligence toward finding a new place faded as the idea of being a resident of Earth grew.
With every box I taped shut, the possibility felt more real—though I still had no clue how it would actually work.
On September 17, 2024, I handed in the apartment key.
I held only a few one-way tickets and zero plans beyond “go where these take me.”
I’ll be back when I’m back.
And so, my life as a resident of Earth began.
I didn’t know which part of Earth I’d land in next—only that wherever I was, I’d be exactly where I needed to be.
With passport in hand, I boarded my first flight:
Colombia—first stop, Medellín.