Why you must have a vision for your life

Have you ever gotten a bad haircut? Maybe the person cutting your hair wasn't the mot skilled stylist but I'd say that there's a high chance that you didn't communicate what you wanted sufficiently.

I've been guilty of this a few times. Maybe after seeing a stylist for a while I'll assume he or she remembers what I like and don't like and I'll say something along the lines of, "Just like last time!" assuming they'll remember the length or the way layers fell or the way I've been parting my hair lately. Then I'm surprised when the cut or color isn't exactly the way I envisioned it. Well of course it's not: I didn't articulated my vision to my stylist, or maybe I wasn't fully clear on the vision myself.

The same thing applies to your career and life overall: you must figure out what you want and clearly express it (first to yourself) before you can expect it to materialize.

Oprah approved coach and motivational speaker Tony Gaskins has famously said, "Build your own dreams or someone will hire you to build theirs." Not everyone has the itch to be an entrepreneur (which is okay!) but this concept still applies. If you don't have a vision for your own life and career chances are high that you will end up simply fitting into someone else's.

While having a vision for a hair style is far from having a vision for your life it requires a similar sequence of events and is based around a similar concept: know what you want, communicate that, and then become it.

It sounds simple but it can be extremely hard. How many twenty-, thirty-, forty-somethings, and beyond have fallen into a career path simply after accepting the first job they were offered out of college? 

I've asked many friends and colleagues what got them into their chosen line of work and a startling number say their company, or whatever company they started at, simply "was hiring." Now sometimes it works out; some companies hire a lot from within and are open to role and organizational changes. I was lucky enough to be at a company like that for four years. But not everyone is like that and even the best ones won't plot out your career for you.

The same way it's common for high school students to be encouraged to think through what they want in a college if they are planning on higher education we should all spend time thinking through what we want out of our careers and lives overall.

It's hard, won't happen overnight, and it can sometimes teeter into existential-territory, but it's important and worth it.

So spend some time thinking through your own wants, goals, and needs. Don't just let your life happen to you. Develop a vision for your life or you'll end up fitting into someone else's.

My trip to Cartagena and why you really need to take an international trip alone

It's no secret that I’ve become one of the newest fans of solo travel; solo anything now-a-days as I've finally embraced my introversion and have started to understand what things and people I need in my life to live my best life (but maybe that's another post).

You can read about my trip late last year to Italy alone here. 

A newly discovered reason that I am all about trying your hand at traveling alone is that it might happen to you unexpectedly and you should be prepared. That’s a pretty lame reason, but honestly I think it’s smart. 

Last month I took a trip to Cartagena, Colombia. (Yes it was incredible and everyone should go right now).

I went with my great friend Christina for most of the time. We planned the trip so that we'd arrive minutes apart in the airport then she'd leave Monday afternoon and I'd stay for one more day -- alone (bliss!)

I felt pretty good about the plans. And even though as loved ones reminded me South America is different from Europe and I am not fluent in Spanish, I had done this before so I felt confident.

And then our plans changed. 

Christina, my ambitious little continent jumper, was in Africa for about a week before heading to Colombia. She planned to spend 3 days back in NYC, where she lives, in between her vacations but some bad weather in Madagascar prevented her from flying out on time. 

This meant that I was alone for a little more than 24 hours upon first arriving in Colombia. 

Not that big of a deal considering I was going to be by myself for a day on the back-end of the trip. But arriving in the foreign country and being alone for the beginning of a trip feels different from being alone at the end of a trip. At the beginning you're getting the lay of the land, getting lost, seeing what's around and generally feeling out the vibe. At the end of a trip you have a sense of the city you're visiting; you have your bearings and at least know enough about the city and have associated the blocks and shops around your hotel as your "home" for your stay. 

Plus it’s very different to walk off a plane and know you’ll be with a friend within an hour versus a day and a half. That’s one thing I’ve learned by traveling alone internationally-- excitement feels different alone.

I found out about this glitch in our plans just a few days before I was flying out of the country. A shift that was sizable enough that I can tell you would have shaken me a bit if I had never traveled outside the country on my own before. But since I had done this before -- this being arriving in a city I didn't know where they spoke a language I couldn't speak and did fine -- I knew I could handle the change of plans.

And you know what? It was fine. More than fine, it was nice to explore and get to know the city on my own then introduce my friend to it. 

Christina joined me seamlessly enough and we had a ball. We explored the city, ate fresh, fresh fruit from street vendors, became addicted to chai frias (delicious/addictive iced chai drink that’s like ingesting heaven; I had two a day), had beyond delicious ceviche, tapas, seafood, and pasta, and listened to street performers day and night. 

And then the winter storm Juno hit the northeast of the United States. Which had, well, zero impact on me since I live in Georgia. But Christina living in New York was definitely impacted. As in her Monday flight was cancelled and she couldn't get on another until Thursday. Her vacation was extended by 3 days, 2 of which I'd be back in Atlanta. 

Now she's a pretty experienced traveler so she was fine. But I realized on my flight back to the states that this is just one more reason why I think it's really important for young people who are interested in travel to do some on their own: you never know how plans might change or get shaken up and you should be able to roll with any unforeseen and uncontrollable changes in your plan rather than let him roll over your trip. 

Maybe not *the* reason to try your hand at it, but if you’re the practically minded type maybe it helps make the case.

Now, since I need to get better about sharing photos… Some of the pictures from Cartagena!

MANGO (!!!)

Sunset from Cafe del Mar… A tourist trap but still came (and I agree is) highly recommended

The colors!

Look into one of the city streets. Fun fact: the building on the left --brighter yellow-- is the BEST restaurant in town, La Virtola. If you heed my advice and go to Cartagena (as you should) you must eat here. 

Me and the newest resident of Cartagena, at least for the last week of January

Picturesque beach day 🙌

And of course, come ceviche and divine plantain chips. 

solo travel: literally doing whatever you want

In November I took a trip to Italy alone for a week. While some might be nervous about how they’d pass the time alone or how they’d spend their days, I was beyond excited to get away and spend some QT time with myself. 

I won’t lie-- I was slightly apprehensive about doing this especially since I don’t speak Italian and had simply never done it, but that was a big part of why I wanted to do it-- because I hadn’t before. 

I had fantasized about the trip: the sites I’d see, how I’d spend my days, the people I’d meet. In some scenarios I fell in love with a tall, handsome Italian man. In some I galavanted around alone, gelato and a bouquet of flowers in hand, a scarf tied around my neck; Carrie Bradshaw in Rome. In some I sat in my hotel room alone eating the best take out pizza of all time (okay I never actually had that fantasy but it was my “worst case scenario” if the trip blew up in my face). 

Trying my hand at traveling alone internationally was really important to me. I had traveled alone domestically but this felt bigger; things were just different abroad…. there was a language barrier, this required a passport, my cellphone bill would be absurd if I got into trouble and had to phone home for help. I had to do it. 

The big pull was to see, well, if I liked it. I comforted myself (and others) by saying that if it was weird or lonely or I became flat-out miserable I could retreat to my hotel room and read the whole time (with that pizza…) Though deep down I knew that I would enjoy it. I had thought about it enough, I was at a point where I just needed to do it. 

Happy, romantic, or pathetic fantasies aside, the point was that the whole trip held endless opportunities for me.


Which is why when I met a very nice Australian man on a tour of the Colosseum who was also traveling alone I wasn’t quite sure exactly how to feel.

He was very nice, bought me a delicious meal and then my dessert of choice in Italy (gelato). But after the first fifteen minutes of being around hime I was reminded why exactly I went on this trip by myself: to be alone and to do literally whatever the hell I wanted to do.

Doing whatever the hell I wanted largely consisted of me wandering the streets, taking photographs, looking at fine leather goods I couldn’t afford, looking at cheap leather goods I did not want, trying to rationalize buying the fine leather goods, then later deciding against it rather rationally over a bottle of wine. I also spent a lot of time finding outlets to charge my phone and free wifi to look up restaurants on TripAdvisor then eating the best pizza and pasta of my life in these restaurants in blissful solitude. 

I would walk the city streets for hours. I got lost in the tourists and the history of the city. I did a lot of tours at the big sites like the Colosseum and The Vatican, but mostly I wandered, got to know the area of town where I “lived”, and fluttered around. 

I am a quite social person but really love my space so when I met this young man who was traveling alone on my tour of the Colosseum again, I wasn’t quite sure how to react. He too was alone and was excited to meet someone else -- a girl at that! -- who was in the same boat. I told him my plans for after the tour and invited him to join if he so desired, trying my best to exude the very truthful air of “I literally do not care one way or another if you join me but I will be sticking to my plans.”

He decided to come along and it wasn’t an hour later that he was driving me crazy. 

Ultimately this was unfair of me. He did nothing out of the ordinary, wasn’t specifically annoying, never made a pass at me or even suggested anything of that nature. Simply it was his presence and the fact that I had to now decide with someone on what to do. Simple actions like where to get off the bus, which street to turn down, should we stop into that shop or the other, where should we eat. This all drove me nuts.

I held it together for a couple of hours but ultimately I just could not maintain the facade. In a way I was beating myself up inside-- I should be kind to this person! He was a fellow solo traveler! He was young and kind and bought me dinner! I was being a rude American and may be hurting his feelings.

Then I remembered my intention of this trip: to be alone. I had left one of my best friends in London to come to Italy for no bigger reason than to just be own my own. What I wanted for that week of my life was to be able to stroll the streets aimlessly, to be able to dine and shop wherever and whenever I wanted, and to be able to meet a nice man, enjoy and afternoon, then never see him again. 

I said goodbye to him after declining his invite to meet up at a bar late that night. I told him I had to be up early, hugged him goodbye, and turned down the side street of my hotel. Then after he had been out of eyesight for a good thirty seconds I turned around and made my way back to the wine bar I had eyed earlier in the walk and ordered a glass of wine and a small plate of olives. I sat and watched passer-byers on the street for an hour then left and walked for another thirty minutes before retuning to my hotel. 

Maybe this was rude but it was my vacation and I was going to enjoy it the exact way I wanted.