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Writer's pictureBriyah Paley

Travel

Today’s dress is from India. My sister bought it for me when she was there for work a few years ago. Curiously, it only has one pocket. The color and patterns are nice.

Travel has been on my mind recently. It’s something that was frowned upon for much of the pandemic. People were encouraged to only travel for essential reasons. Lockdowns were imposed and curfews added during busy travel times. quarantine between states was suggested, but not enforced. I didn’t understand the fear. Planes were flying, and they were empty. Flights were cheap, and I finally had money (thanks to Pandemic Unemployment Assistance). There was no way anyone was going to stop me. I even went to Florida, which was considered a Covid Hotspot and therefore the worst place to go. But when I got to Florida, everyone was happy and masks were optional. I felt I’d found my people. I felt much better than I had in NYC. I wasn’t worried. I was just grateful to have found such a beautiful place to spend time in. I never had any issues. Just sunshine and serenity. My mother begged me not to go to Florida, but soon she was there herself, causing me to question a few things. It’s true she flew on a private plane. I guess that felt safer to her. But we don’t all have that luxury. Suddenly, Covid became political. And it became a war between the privileged and the unprivileged. I was in the odd position to have access to both. I was living off unemployment and food stamps, but had never felt richer. At the same time, no way was I going to stop talking the subway and spend excessive amounts on Ubers. That’s not how I was able to save so much. I realize this post may be triggering to some readers, and I apologize for that. I’m just trying to be honest and explain what was going through my mind. My position on Covid has remained the same throughout. I feel terrible for those who it negatively affected. But I was fully prepared to get it. I even tried to get it. I wanted the antibodies. I wanted to get it over with. I always felt that I’d be OK, and I was fully prepared to be wrong. But nothing ever happened. I watched as those around me lived in fear and I felt that was a waste of my time here on earth. There’s ways to be cautious while still living one‘s life. That’s pretty much what I did. Planes flew and I was on them. I didn’t break any laws. Although I did aggravate some people, which was unfortunate. I had a choice to make, and I chose what felt right to me and not what felt right to everyone else.

I have always been a traveler. It’s a big part of my identity. My first solo trip was at 19, to Italy. I realized how empowering it was to book a trip and see what came of it. I became obsessed, as I have with many things in life that take me away from the pain that lives inside me. Travel became a distraction. Travel became the answer. It became the rebellion and the teacher. Nothing has taught me more than travel. When something goes wrong, I fix it. I love meeting fellow travelers. In Budapest I met a nomadic couple who travel all the time. I was in awe of their lifestyle. Could I do it too? Right now they’re in Thailand.

Back in 2014, I came into some money, unexpectedly. My cousin Jack Paley told me about a website where I could see if I had “missing money.” I thought it was a scam, but it wasn’t. I had $5,000 in an account in the state treasury where I was born. No one knew why. I have a habit of weird things happening to me. I quickly booked a trip to Uruguay. I usually go wherever I can find a cheap flight. In Australia, Virgin Blue had Happy Hour flights every weekday. I‘d log on and see what offerings they had. I‘d instantly book a weekend trip to Byron Bay, The Gold Coast, Hobart, or Adelaide. It’s how I saw much of Australia. I‘d sometimes ask a friend to join me, but they’d be too indecisive for my impulsive nature. Later, I’d learn this is a symptom of BPD. I loved the thrill of booking a flight and then finding a hostel to say in and activities to book. These were the years before Airbnb, and I loved meeting fellow travelers at hostels. I’m fortunate that I have an easy time sleeping. I longed for a partner to travel with, but I got used to being on my own. The 2014 trip to Uruguay quickly turned into a much longer trip. At some point, I’d been accepted to fashion school in San Francisco, but I didn’t want to give up the trip I’d booked. The school told me I could take a leave of absence and come back to resume my 9 month degree. That seemed sensible. The problem was that I hadn’t told my parents of my plans to take time off. I kept putting it off and finally told them while walking down Nantasket Beach, where I spent many summers. They weren’t pleased, but what could they do? Off I went, first to Mexico, then Uruguay, Buenos Aires, Australia for 5 weeks, followed by a trip to Portland, Seattle and Vancouver. I was away for 3 months. When I came back, I met my next boyfriend, and that‘s quite a tale.

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