Irie to Aurora (2025)

11/08/2025

Advice I’d give my 30 year old self…

I spent most of my 30s trying to become the version of me I thought would finally be “enough.”

Smart enough. Settled enough. Certain enough.

All while wondering why I still didn’t feel like I belonged.

This post isn’t about regret.

It’s relief, for anyone out there thinking they’re late, behind, or somehow messing up.

You’re not.
You’re right on time.

These are the words I needed back then, before I knew how good it was about to get.

12/05/2025

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Me

I don’t usually do these, but let’s be real, most people know the vanlife version of me. Here’s some of the other stuff that makes me... me:

1. I grew up in a rainforest in Trinidad.
We hunted, fished, foraged, and used what we had. That’s just how life was. It’s where I learned to be resourceful, to respect what the earth gives us, and to never waste a thing. Growing up in a rainforest taught me resilience and to live in sync with the land before I even knew what sustainability meant.

2. I’ve been making my own skincare for over 8 years.
It started in my van after years of struggling with acne and feeling let down by products that never actually helped. I got tired of outsourcing my healing, so I started learning, experimenting, and figuring it out myself. What began as a solution became a passion. Now it’s one of the most grounding and creative parts of my life.

3. I’m obsessed with upcycling.
Like… I will 100% turn your trash into something useful. If you’re throwing it out, I’m already thinking about what it could be. If you’ve ever spent time with me, you already know: I’ll fix it, rig it, repurpose it. And it’s low-key one of my favorite things about myself.

4. I have three snake tattoos.
I’ve always loved snakes. They’re sharp, quiet, and deeply misunderstood, and they remind me that strength doesn’t have to be loud. I’ve always wanted to get a real one, but I’m still working up the nerve. For now, the ink’s enough.

5. I left Trinidad at 17 and moved to the U.S. alone.
I was a sheltered teen who landed in a big city and had to figure out a lot of things the hard way. Everything I’ve created, from my vanlife to entrepreneurship, started with that decision. It taught me how to bet on myself before I had proof.

These are the things that shaped how I move through the world, wayyy before vanlife. What’s one part of your story that people don’t see?

04/05/2025

Contrary to what you’re told, or what Instagram sells you, vanlife doesn’t solve your problems. It just puts them in the front seat with you. Sure, it pushes you to grow, but often that growth looks like anxiety, doubt, or feeling alone. The freedom’s real, but often romanticized. Most days, it’s just you facing your own noise without distractions.

Every version of freedom comes with a cost. You have to decide if you’re willing to pay up.

It’s wild to think this all started as a one-year road trip from New Orleans to Alaska. I figured I’d go back to my “normal” life after that. But six months in, I knew I couldn’t and didn’t want to. There are so many lessons, but the biggest one is this: we’re taught to fear the unknown/uncertainty, but sometimes staying in the comfort zone is just as risky. It’s where most people settle, shrink, and stop listening to themselves. Vanlife didn’t give me all the answers, but it made me get real with myself, with what I want, and with what I’m done putting up with. It gave me the space to ask the right questions.

09/03/2025

No one tells you how weird it feels when a dream stops being a dream and becomes your life.

For years, I imagined what it would be like to wake up here. To have my own land, my own space, something rooted and secure after so much time on the road. I thought getting here would feel like arrival. Like I’d wake up one day, look around, and think, this is it—I made it.

But it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would.

It doesn’t hit you all at once. It sneaks up on you in moments you don’t expect.

Like when I’m making coffee and catch the sunrise hitting the land just right. When I step outside and realize I don’t have to go anywhere to find peace—it’s right here, and I’m creating it for myself.

And then, out of nowhere, I feel it. I’m here. This is mine.

But the thing no one tells you is that getting here isn’t the hardest part. Learning to stay inside the life you once dreamed about, without immediately chasing the next thing, is where it gets real.

I used to think time was running out, that I had to keep moving, keep building, keep earning my next chapter. But creating a life here on this patch of desert has shown me that time isn’t slipping away- it’s stretching. Expanding. And when you stop racing time, you start noticing the gaps. The in-between moments where the coffee stays warm a little longer, the sky shifts before your eyes, and your body exhales, because there’s nowhere to rush to.

The beautiful truth is, friends, there’s no perfect timeline, no one way things are supposed to unfold. There’s only the next step. And then the next.

Some days, I feel unstoppable. Other days, I wonder if I have any idea what I’m doing. But I think that’s the point. Growth & healing isn’t a straight line. It’s weird. It’s messy. It stretches you in ways you didn’t see coming.

And if you’re doing it right? You’ll fail. Over and over. And then, somehow—you’ll wake up inside the life you used to dream about.

—
📸1&8 .art

|Creating a life of purpose |Mindful living tips |Off-grid lifestyle inspiration |Embracing uncertainty |Slow living movement

16/02/2025

I never thought I’d say this. Not at 42.
But after two years of intentional celibacy, I’ve realized how much of my life was built around someone always being there. A relationship to validate me.

I thought I knew love. What I really knew was attachment—how to chase, how to compromise, how to hold on long past the expiration date.

Most people don’t even know what it feels like to belong to themselves. They mistake inconsistency for passion. They confuse loneliness with longing.

And for a long time—I did too.

Because I wasn’t just seeking love. I was seeking safety. And I never stopped to ask:

Who am I without it?

For the first time, I had to decide if I actually liked who I was—without someone else reflecting me back to myself.

The hardest lesson? Sitting with discomfort instead of looking for an external fix. Understanding that loneliness and longing aren’t the same thing.

I used to believe love was about proving your worth to someone else. That if you loved them the “right” way, they’d finally see your value.

I don’t believe that anymore.

If you don’t treat yourself with respect, you’ll accept people who don’t respect you. If you don’t value your time, you’ll give it to people who waste it. If you don’t set standards, you’ll keep mistaking inconsistency for passion.

Real love meets you where you are whole.

Most people won’t understand how much mental clarity and peace you gain when you stop negotiating your self-worth in the name of love.

Celibacy is just one part of it. Who are you without seeking outside yourself?

I didn’t get it until I sat in my own solitude long enough to feel the shift.

Until I woke up and realized—I wasn’t wondering what someone else was thinking. I wasn’t decoding mixed signals. I wasn’t shrinking myself to be more palatable for someone else’s fears.

People won’t understand until they experience the stillness—
And realize how much of their life was spent filling the silence with things that never truly belonged to them.

Choosing yourself means no longer handing your peace away for free. It’s finally belonging to yourself.

📸: .art

|Desert Girls

30/01/2025

Ever outgrow a life you once loved?

That was me at 40. A decade on the road, a divorce, and a chapter closing before I was ready.

For nearly ten years, I built my life on movement.

Living in my van, waking up somewhere new, knowing I could leave at any moment.

And for a long time, that was freedom.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t.

By the time my first book, ‘Living the Vanlife’ was published in 2023, everything was shifting at once.

The life that once fit me so perfectly no longer did.

Burnout in my bones. A life that no longer felt like my own.

I had spent so many years moving that I didn’t know what it felt like to stop.

To sit in the discomfort. To ask myself what I actually wanted—without knowing what would come next.

Maybe you know the feeling.

That moment when you realize you can’t keep moving the way you always have.

When the life you built stops feeling like yours.

Because starting over? It forces you to answer questions you spent years avoiding.

Walking away from something you spent years building—without a backup plan? Terrifying.

Rebuilding from scratch, alone, when the world expects you to have it all figured out? That part stings.

But here’s what I know now: starting over wasn’t one big decision—it was a hundred small ones.

Sitting in the stillness when I wanted to run.

Letting the grief catch up to me.

Learning how to move forward before I felt ‘ready.’

So, I did what I’ve always done.

I let go. I leaned in.

And now, I’m here.

Gently rooting into five acres of high desert.

Building a homestead from the ground up.

Learning how to turn this patch of desert into a home.

Redefining what freedom actually means—rooted, intentional, and aligned.

Not just for me—but for anyone who’s ever felt stuck, restless, or in transition.

This space is shifting, too.

And I’m glad you’re here.

Because here’s the truth: we don’t have to settle for a life that no longer fits.

If you’re new here, say hey 👋 and introduce yourself!

And if you’ve been around—what season are you in right now? Movement, stillness, something in between? Drop a word below—I’d love to hear.

|women empowerment

06/11/2024

Today, I’m stepping out into nature to clear my head and shut out the noise. When things feel heavy, this is where I come back to myself, where the distractions drop away, and what really matters comes into focus.

Maybe you have your own version of this—a place or ritual that brings you back to your core. Finding that space to check in with yourself, without the world’s opinions, is something we all need.

This is part of my commitment to keep showing up, grounded, and clear, even when everything around me feels uncertain. So take the time, however, that looks for you, to find that quiet.

Sometimes the only answer we get is to keep showing up for ourselves. Let’s keep listening, trusting, and doing what we need to do to stay in this, fully present.

31/10/2024

Looks like this year, Amara and I scored the ultimate safe house—our own desert hideaway!

👻 Last Halloween, we were channeling our inner post-apocalyptic survivors, roaming the Mojave as Dr. Robert Neville & pup Sam from I Am Legend, dodging tumbleweeds and scouting for safe houses.

Fast forward to now—same desert but with five acres to call our own. We may not be on the run anymore, but you better believe we’re still ready for anything… or whatever might come creeping in the dark. 🌌

Have a great Halloween y’all! Don’t forget to vote 🗳️

11/09/2024

7 days. 17 strangers. And one hell of an adventure.

I thought I was just signing up for a rafting trip. What I got was an experience I’ll never forget. Sleeping at the base of rapids, floating down the Colorado River, camping deep in the Grand Canyon—I’m still trying to wrap my head around the sheer scale of it. You think you understand ‘vast’ until you’re staring up at canyon walls carved over millions of years.

I jumped into this with 17 people I’d never met before. By the end, we weren’t strangers anymore. Riding rapids by day, sharing a p*e bucket by night—survival bonds you faster than you’d think.

Going all in without knowing what to expect made this trip everything it was meant to be.

These BTS snaps were caught on my iPhone and GoPro, but the real action is still ahead 🎥—rapids, mind-blowing hikes, incredible meals, and a few ‘what did I just get myself into’ moments.

Crossing the Sonoran and Mojave deserts, running rapids, and sleeping under a sky that felt too big to comprehend—this trip reminded me just how small we are and how much is out there to explore.

A huge thank you to for giving me an experience most people only dream about. And to Kelsy, Carlos, and Jeremiah—the guides who went above and beyond, keeping us safe, inspired, and gripping the raft for dear life.

📍Ancestral Land of the Havasupai, Hualapai Peoples

24/07/2024

Why should road travelers consider a cruise? One word: Bliss

After endless miles and campfire coffees, I decided to shake things up with a cruise. And wow, it was a whole new adventure.

Life on the road is an adventure, but the constant hunt for WiFi, water, and campsites can be exhausting. This cruise swapped out my Bronco for a suite with an ocean view. Talk about a much-needed break from campsite chores and endless driving. Gourmet meals, spa-days, non-stop entertainment, and all i had to do was show up. Absolute heaven.

Joining the retreat with added an extra layer of fun and connection to the journey. Instead of planning every detail, I just got to kick back and enjoy the ride. Each day, I could choose between onshore adventures like snorkeling and exploring local culture, or just soaking up the restful luxury on the ship. No meal planning or resource hunting – everything was handled.

If you’re a road traveler like me, craving a break from the usual grind, consider this your sign. This cruise was a chance to ditch the road trip hustle and sink into some serious self-care. It reminded me that sometimes, it’s okay to let someone else do the planning and just enjoy the journey. And trust me, being pampered felt pretty damn good.

Been on a crusie? What did you love most? Comment below 👇🏾

Irie to Aurora

11/08/2025

12/05/2025

04/05/2025

09/03/2025

16/02/2025

30/01/2025

06/11/2024

31/10/2024

11/09/2024

24/07/2024

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