Learning to Love Traveling.

Growing up I had the privilege to go on some family trips with my family. I was lucky enough to travel and experience different things apart from my Orange County bubble.

Whether it was a local trip to Catalina Island or to our neighbors up north, Canada, the trips were always planned extensively as if there was a fear of possible boredom experienced by the traveling members.

With extensive planning came an extensive schedule.

"Wake up at 6 am? Wasn't this a vacation?" Those exact words were spoken at least 5 times by my young self.


Along with the early morning, non-stop, active schedule, there was also a silent rule that every breath taken on the trip had to be documented by a photo. Every five minutes a command of "Pose here," "Stop here," or "Look over here," was said by the adults in the group. It didn't matter if it was the same exact background as the photo taken just minutes before, just the difference of a tiny pebble would have caused an adult to whip out their camera.

I, along with my brother, did not like the photos.


I hated the photos.


I absolutely DREADED the photos.


Ironically, today I am glad that these photos were taken, as they captured the full spectrum of emotions displayed by a young me. Those captured emotions help tell another story of what I despised growing up: traveling.


Growing up I hated traveling.The main reason being was that I had moved quite a bit growing up. I had moved to new schools every single year up until the 3rd grade. However, even after 3rd grade, I continued to move to different houses or apartments in the same city. In total, from kindergarten to senior year of high school, I moved a total of seven times between three different cities.

I absolutely hated the packing and unpacking process. I hated having to make new friends and adjust to a new environment. I hated being the new person.

Though I must admit, I did not have trouble making friends at these new locations, I simply disliked having to repeat the process. You could imagine my joy when I found out that I was returning to the same school in 4th grade.


Let's step back from the past because as an adult, I LOVE traveling. On my free time I day dream of my next trip, I look up flight tickets to random destinations, I scope out popular tourist sites and things to do at each city, I live to travel. Yet, if I had told this to my adolescent self, I would not have believed it. My only goal during the summer was to stay home and not move.