It’s Not Too Late to Live Boldly
(But You Do Have to Get Out of Your Own Way)
For a long time, I told myself I was fine. Fine staying in the same town, doing the same thing.
Not miserable. Not unhappy. Just… contained.
I had a decent life. A predictable routine. Responsibilities. Excuses that sounded reasonable enough when I said them out loud. And if I’m being honest, I hid behind “being practical” when what I really was… stuck. Stuck and afraid to explore what was out there beyond my safe, comfortable existence.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped choosing boldness. And I know I’m not the only one.
That’s why Boldly Roaming Bees exists.
Let’s Be Clear About the Fear
When people talk about fear, it’s usually in a soft, polite way.
That was not my experience.
I was phobic about flying. Not nervous. Not uneasy.
Full-on, catastrophic, body-locking fear. For years, I needed medication just to get on a plane, if you could get me on one at all.
Once, I was so out of it that I fell asleep on a fellow passenger mid-flight.
Mortifying? Yes.
But more than that—it was a wake-up call.
That was the moment I realized fear wasn’t just visiting my life.
It was running it.
The Decision That Changed Everything
I didn’t slowly ease my way out of fear.
I made a bold decision and moved to Miami. I lived in a tiny beachfront studio apartment furnished with few donated mismatched household items.
I sat down on my futon/bed and thought “Holy sh*t! What am I doing?” I had no safety net. No soft landing. No time for a finding myself montage.
Instead, I hustled. I worked three jobs—two in Miami—and I flew back to Dallas every six weeks to keep doing hair so I could pay my bills. Time off wasn’t an option.
And here’s the key part:
I couldn’t take meds anymore.
I had to land ready to take clients. Alert. Present. On my feet. I didn’t have the luxury of numbing myself through fear anymore.
So I had to rely on something I didn’t even know I had.
Strength.
Not the Instagram kind.
Not the “manifest it” kind.
The real kind. The unglamorous, get-your-shit-together kind.
The kind that shows up when there’s no Plan B.
What Travel Gave Me (That I Didn’t Expect)
Travel didn’t magically cure my fear.
What it did was remind me who the hell I was.
It showed me that I’m capable of more discomfort than I ever gave myself credit for. That I don’t actually need perfect conditions to move forward. And that waiting until you feel “ready” is how you stay exactly where you are.
Fear doesn’t go away because you wait it out.
It goes away because you stop letting it call the shots.
Why “Bees”?
Because bees don’t sit around overthinking.
They move. They adapt. They do their job. They go where they need to go—even when conditions aren’t ideal. And along the way, they create something bigger than themselves.
That’s the energy here.
Boldly Roaming Bees is for women—especially women in midlife—who feel restless, stuck, bored, scared, or quietly pissed off that they’re playing smaller than they want to be.
You don’t need a total life overhaul.
You don’t need permission.
You don’t need to be fearless.
You just need to get the hell out of your own way.
What This Space Is (And Isn’t)
This isn’t toxic positivity.
This isn’t a cheerleading squad.
And I’m not here to tell you everything is easy.
This space is about:
Travel that feels doable—not intimidating
Facing fear without pretending it’s cute
Looking good, feeling strong, and living well at any age
Making bold choices even when you’re scared
Starting again—without apologizing for it
Some posts will be practical.
Some will be personal.
Some might make you uncomfortable—in a good way.
All of them come back to one truth:
It’s not too late.
But no one is coming to rescue you.
If You’re Reading This…
If something in you feels restless, good.
If this hits a nerve, even better.
That’s the part of you that knows there’s more.
You don’t need to blow up your life.
You don’t need a five-year plan.
You just need one bold decision—and the willingness to back yourself.
This space exists because I finally did.
Welcome to Boldly Roaming Bees.
Now let’s stop talking about it—and start moving.
