From the Archives

It was only a week or two into our brand new relationship (you know that early stage where you’re not really dating, but not really seeing other people either?) when Kyle asked me to go on an overnight trip with him.

I kind of wish I could go back and see my face in that moment.

Eyes gleaming. Eyebrows pinched. Mouth wide open. Cheeks turning red. Images of what was to come flashing by like movie scenes in my head while I thought about how I should respond.

Because it wasn’t just a trip.

It was an overnight trip to Boston…

For a wedding…

Where his entire Italian family would be gathered together to celebrate the happy couple…

A couple that I had never met.

And to top it off, it was that upcoming weekend. We’re talking a mere 72 hours away. And I could tell he was 100% serious.

Mind you- I had never been to Boston. I had never met any of Kyle’s family or his friends, and we had not really made it to the point where we were telling anyone about our…let’s just call it a courtship.

And all I can remember thinking in that moment, and what I eventually said out loud was, “Hell yeah. Sign me up!”

Believe it or not, for one reason or another, we never did take off to Bah-ston, but it was the first time I can remember thinking, “Damn. I really like this guy,” and the first time he could probably tell that I was either:

Always down for anything.
Or a complete loon.

There were many spontaneous weekend trips at the beginning:

A mad dash to see the New Orleans VooDoo play a game in the Super Dome.
A quick visit to Baton Rouge to watch the Carolina Gamecocks get murdered by the LSU Tigers.
A New Years Eve Masquerade in the Tampa Bay Aquarium.
A regrettable late night on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras.

You get the picture.

The point is, Kyle’s get-up-and-go attitude was one of my favorite things about him. We shared the same lust for adventure.

Which is why he shouldn't have been too surprised with what came next.

That trip changed my entire outlook on life.

Shortly after all of our fun had began, I got a call that I had been accepted into a teaching program. In the UK.

A trip of a lifetime.

So, I did as anyone in a fresh, semi-committed relationship would do. I packed my bags, said my goodbyes, and flew away to England.

Leaving everything I knew and loved (even though those words weren’t exchanged until quite some time afterwards) behind in the unsettled dust of the Jackson Medgar-Evers’ runway.

The opportunity took me to a small town in Hertfordshire, just north of London. Cheshunt, England to be exact.

I remember pulling into the driveway on Goffs Lane like it was yesterday. The home looked like it came straight out of one of JK Rowling’s books. In the hazy English rain, I was transported to Privet Drive and a home that I had come to love in the Harry Potter movies!

For the next several weeks, I navigated my way around a new home, a new roommate, a new school, a new curriculum, and a classroom of new students from every corner of the Earth. I learned how to make a proper cuppa, how to say hello in 6 different languages, and how to teach classes I had absolutely no formal training in- including music, swimming, technology, foreign language, and world religions- God help us all.

When I wasn’t teaching, I was traveling up and down the English rail and tube system and all over the United Kingdom: from London, Liverpool, Brighton, and Dublin. To the highlights of the European Union: Amsterdam and Paris included.

That trip changed my entire outlook on life.

And when I returned to the muddy Mississippi soil of my hometown, I knew that assignment was just the beginning of my time abroad.

I also knew exactly who I wanted to take with me on my next trip across the big pond.

And I knew exactly what he’d say… “Hell yeah. Sign me up!”

Since then, Kyle and I have made it a point to travel far and wide.

With every visit we’ve learned something new about our world and, more importantly, about ourselves.

For example, Kyle learned that he can’t always rely on his Google Translate app to save him when he’s stranded at the top of a Guatemalan mountain with no reception. And I’ve learned to never brush my teeth with untreated tap water again.

But the reality is that travel changes you.

Being surrounded by hundreds of people who are not like you can be uncomfortable. It forces you to grow as a human being. Forces you to see things from new perspectives. Forces you to humble yourself and find gratitude and compassion.

So with one backpack and a small roller bag each, we are intentionally signing up for a year of discomfort. A year of chaotic, randomly planned excursions around the globe with little-to-no air conditioning, questionable tap water, and more language barriers than we’ve ever faced.

And by now, you already know what we have to say to that… don’t you?

Hell yeah. Sign us up!

From the archives…