I’ve always had two loves: traveling and writing. I grew up in a small town in Ohio and never left the country before I was eighteen.
Once I did, there was no looking back. I fell in love with the feeling of being somewhere unknown, so I did a semester abroad in Paris during college, and then took a job in London when I graduated. I used those years to travel solo as much as I possibly could. I took weekend trips everywhere that Easy Jet offered and used every spare minute to explore museums, learn about the country, and eat everything. I mean everything,
I almost always traveled solo. I loved the challenge of figuring it all out myself, and being in control of how I spent my time, and being on my own taught me so much about who I am. When my job took me back to New York, I realized the work I was doing wasn’t fulfilling me. I took two weeks off to go to Africa for the first time, and that trip changed everything. I had never been anywhere that captured my heart like Tanzania. The trip sparked something inside me, and I knew I couldn’t go back to New York and continue doing a job that I had no passion for. I quit when I got home, and began volunteering with NGOs, determined to get a job with an organization I admired.
At the same time, my boyfriend was in entertainment and was gearing up for a big tour. He needed someone to help him handle it all; a road manager that could also be a groupie. I fit the bill. It was supposed to be a few months away, then we’d return to New York. I planned to go back to school for anthropology and writing and pursue the career I wanted. But that trip ended up being seven years long. We got engaged, and then married, and my temporary position of professional assistant became permanent. We traveled the entire world together in the most unusual way. We saw the whole world together and had experiences you couldn't buy or replicate if you wanted to. We were always with locals, always chasing authenticity, always up for adventure, and always there to learn.
And, since I am always in need of a creative outlet - I started writing about our adventures for family and friends. A few years into our journey I decided to make my blog and photos of our travels into an Instagram page and @Traveloutsidethebox was born. I wasn’t the best at nurturing it at first - our life of traveling about three hundred days a year, and jumping from country to country offered no down time. We’d sleep, pack, work, travel and repeat. My passion project grew, nonetheless, but the priority in our lives was always my husband ’s work - it was the lens our whole world was seen through.
Until last year, when our marriage unexpectedly ended. I found myself without a home, without a job, and without the future we had started building. All I had was my stories, the knowledge I’d gained from traveling for a decade, and the passion I had for exploring the world. So I took a solo trip, my first one in a decade. I stayed away for six weeks; six immensely difficult, powerful, and beautiful weeks where I remembered who I was and what I wanted. When I got home I put my things in a storage unit in New York and moved to a tiny apartment in my favorite city in the world - Paris.
I’ve lived an usual 30 years. I've gone through two passports; traveling to over 83 countries across 6 continents. I've traveled in all kinds of styles: from luxury cruises and six-star safaris, to driving cross-country in a Honda Civic and sleeping in roadside motels. I’ve camped in the National Parks, glamped on the Sergenti, crossed deserts on camels and explored Patagonia by horseback. Each destination slowly shaped me into the person I am today, and changed my life. I’m currently living in Paris, but I’m still wanderlusting, and I share those moments through stories and photos to inspire people to travel. I spend time with locals. I seek out unique hotels. I ask strangers for tips. I do things outside the box, and my photos and stories are authentic moments that you can go live and make it your own.