Brave, Packed, and Ready to Play: Let the Adventures Begin!

I’ve lived on island time, but this adventure feels different.

Maybe it’s the solo ticket.

Maybe it’s the stilettos.

Maybe it’s that whisper—the one that says something magical is waiting just beyond the next passport stamp… art, wonder, a spark of the unexpected.

Suitcase packed to the brim.

Heart wide open.

Let’s see what happens next. 🕊️✨

I’ve lived in Bermuda. I’ve lived in Grand Cayman. So, is this the bravest adventure I’ve ever embarked on? Maybe. Maybe not. But, it ranks real high on the list.

There’s just something about setting off on a solo international trip—bags in tow, heart wide open—that feels like a bold and beautiful leap into the unknown. And this leap? It’s lined with croissants, cobblestone streets, and a few impractical pairs of heels.

Y’all. Let’s talk about packing.

Despite my very best intentions to travel light (because I’m a sensible woman and an organized one at that), I somehow ended up checking two bags. Yes—two. Plus a backpack. Plus a purse. And yes, one of those checked bags is technically a carry-on… but my airfare included two free checked bags and, well—why not, right?

I blame the early packing. When you start a week ahead of your departure, it gives your brain time—dangerous, excessive, overthinking time—to decide you might need all the shoes. I went from, “I’ll mostly be wearing sneakers,” to… “better bring two pairs of stilettos, a couple of sandals, a couple of slides, and maybe those cute joggers too.”

Add a jacket. Add a blazer. Add a raincoat. Add a sweater. Toss in another just in case. And don’t forget the umbrella, the power converters, a curling iron, a mini pharmacy, Type 1 diabetes supplies (enough to treat a small village), and several “maybe-I’ll-go-dancing” outfits just in case I feel spontaneous. Honestly, at this point, I might be better categorized as a traveling apothecary than a tourist.

But here’s the thing:

I’m not apologizing for any of it.

Because this adventure isn’t about perfection. It’s not about light packing or rigid itineraries. It’s about play.

And here’s what I know in my bones—when you stop playing, you stop living. And when you stop living, you start aging. So, stilettos and all, I’m in full bloom over here.

Let this be a reminder to all of us: organize what you can, laugh at what you can’t, and for heaven’s sake—don’t forget to have fun.

And just to add a little stardust on top of it all—on my very first afternoon in Paris, the Tour de France will roll right past my hotel. Can you even?! If you need me, I’ll be on the sidewalk in my cutest Parisian outfit, cheering on the riders and soaking up the moment like it’s the very first scene in the rom-com of my life.

Let the adventures begin.

Oui oui, baby. This girl is ready.

Honey Note:

Life’s too short to leave behind the good shoes or the good dreams. Be bold, pack big, and never, ever stop playing.

– MaryNell (aka Honey) 💫🐝