Posted in Colombia, coronavirus, Entreprenuer, expat life, glamping, long distance relationships, love bombing, romance, social media, texting, Uncategorized

Love Bombed? Maybe. (Part 1)

The Love Bombed, Maybe Series

A lot of what I’ve read about this whole subject seems overblown in today’s world of hype and buzzwords. It didn’t feel manipulative to me, maybe because I realized right away it might be what people call “love bombing” when he sent me a romantic song to get my attention. I think for him, sending memes and songs was easier than talking, since his persona was definitely introverted, while I’m the chatty extrovert. Although I apparently lack the social skill known as texting etiquette, I text like I talk, too much, which I will address later in this blog. I know these social media terms get thrown around as another way we can get hurt in today’s world. People cancel each other for the most ridiculous reasons, and I always take a wait-and-see approach with anything new. He appeared in my life at a time I was ready for a diversion after focusing on my business and personal growth for many years. Anyone who has moved abroad like I did and figured out life in a foreign country has faced more than most. It has given me the kind of independence that comes from finding out everything the hard way, surviving, adjusting, learning another language, and trusting in myself. I am resilient, and my confidence is part of my personality. I know what I have accomplished, and I also know that not many people could do what I have done. Any man entering my personal space needs to know this, too. I’m always ready for something new and see life as a continuous process, but I control my life. I am not an easy target for anyone. In fact, I think anyone who has a relationship with me figures that out.

He visited Villa Migelita Ecolodge last year with a family member. We had known each other on Facebook for years, and I was curious to meet him in person. They arrived in the early morning hours after a long flight, so I made pizzas and opened some wine. The conversation was pleasant, and the views of the Valle del Cauca were as beautiful as ever. I love it when anyone from the USA sees what I take for granted. Views at night from my balconies will impress even the most jaded person. Over the week, I saw that he’s serious; in fact, I don’t recall seeing him smile much. Spending a day out with him and his cousin, he showed a lighter side, but was still kind of stuffy. I would later find out that his social skills lack warmth and effort. After a few days, they left for another part of Colombia. Occasionally, I’d get texts from him or his cousin, which is normal for guests who visit my Glamping place. One day, his cousin messaged while I was at the hospital with my son, who had a medical emergency. I replied briefly, explaining I had no time to chat. Love Bomber messaged me kindly after hearing about my son and kept in touch. My phone constantly lights up with messages, so I wouldn’t know when someone’s interested in me. Then he sent a Luther Vandross song—my favorite. That’s when he caught my attention. The songs he started sending were fun and increasingly love-oriented. I would then send back a song that was even thirstier. As we continued texting, I realized he had a repertoire; for someone I remembered as sort of boring, he seemed deliberate in his use of this technique. These gestures didn’t fit the person I recalled. I also realized later in our relationship that he doesn’t listen to music, unlike me. Did he have these songs in a PDF file, ready to use when needed?

As I look back on the initial phase of this flirtation, I realized that Love Bomber was a pro at texting, but only with songs. Then came the memes and only memes. He didn’t talk unless he called me. Then it would be me carrying the conversation, not him. If I spoke about my day, which is always filled with guests and interesting happenings, he would just look at me without engaging. If I spoke about him and his life, he would talk. I like the old-fashioned way of chatting. Let’s talk on the phone, or send real thoughts, not songs, not memes. Looking back on our text conversations, there weren’t any. I would send him a couple of short paragraphs. As I said earlier, this is not the way social media experts think is appropriate. I should have answered with a short, witty sentence, as they advised. I would receive a heart and another song or meme. I found it weird, to be honest. No real words or connection, just these silly reels and memes. Because I am who I am, I didn’t care. I accept people as they are if I like them. To me, it was all in fun. I’m perceptive, and I looked at this blatant manipulation of romance as entertainment once I realized his intent. Those big gestures were priceless; in fact, the more obvious they were, the more absurd the songs or memes I would send back. It became a game in my mind. He was writing a book, and he started sending me chapters. I am a writer, so I was interested. However, he wasn’t interested in anything I had to say unless it was about him or the book. He started calling me his muse. I didn’t mind helping him, but being his muse added some work to my day, in the form of reading and dissecting his book. Yet he could never send me a normal text. Not a “How was your day?, I know you are busy. How are the dogs?, How is your son? What is the weather like?” Nothing. As I write this on my blog now, I realize it is not normal not to ask about the other person. Maybe this is why I feel the need to share this story. I am a busy person, but I loved the attention he was giving me. I admit to that. However, if you are the type of person who really wants a love interest, I can see where this attention could draw you into a situation where you might get hurt. Make sure your expectations match reality. I know life is not a fairytale; I have been through a lot. As I always say to prospective suitors, “I never want to marry again!” and LB (love-bomber) knew that from our first, as I call it, three-day date in Bogota.

He invited me to meet in Bogota for a few days. I had to close my Glamping place down, but my son was living with me, so I could leave. I met him in Bogotá, and as soon as I walked outside of baggage claim, he was touchy-feely, taking my hand, hugging me, and kissing my cheek. I am not demonstrative at all, so it felt unnatural to me. I give warm hugs as a greeting, but prefer to leave it at that. As we drove in the Uber, he kept up the affection. I was worried. What had I done? We arrived at the hotel and had lunch on a beautiful terrace. Wine at lunch made me feel less nervous. I knew he was a normal human from his time staying at my hotel, so I began to relax. I explained I needed my phone for hotel inquiries. I felt bad because I don’t like being on my phone when with others, especially while eating. I would later learn that LB was the most phone-addicted person I had ever been around, including younger people, but he kept it in check during this trip. He needed sleep, so I caught up on reservations while he snored in the other bed in our suite at the Sheraton. I kept wondering why I left my comfort zone, especially while sharing a suite. I told myself I needed something new, which I think women talk to themselves like this when they should not. In hindsite I realize I don’t need anything new, because my life is pretty perfect. I knew it was going to be tough at night since I’m a light sleeper. I had an ex-husband who snored, and believe me, I love being single and not having snoring in my life! When he woke up, we went out to dinner and enjoyed Korean BBQ. When we returned to the hotel, I literally had no sleep that night. My thoughts were, “Why did I do this? I do not like to have my sleep disturbed. I hate it, and my thoughts while I lay awake half the night were not kind, nor ready to start anything with him. But the next morning, after I slept fitfully, he suggested going to the gym on our floor. I liked that, because fitness is important to me. He seemed to care about staying in shape, which is also a requirement for any man in my life. I did Yoga while he worked out; my unkind thoughts about my lack of sleep weren’t as bad now.

If you look up love bombing, you’ll see that people who do it avoid social interactions and focus all their attention on their objective. YOU. This does match some of what I experienced, but what I want my readers to know is that not everyone will be affected the same way. They do shower you with affection—holding your hand, putting their arms around you, being overly attentive —but LB was limited in one-on-one social skills; he really could not carry on a conversation with me. I didn’t notice this at first because I was translating for us, and to be fair, I can carry on a conversation for another person and me without a problem. I can see how someone might get caught up in the initial phase and feel over the moon from all the attention they receive, even though this attention was mostly nonverbal in my case. His behavior was over the top, but flattering, too. And I want my readers to know that love bombers usually focus on someone who is lacking something in their personal life. Maybe they’re lonely, missing companionship, or have never had a real relationship before. Maybe they want to be swept off their feet, and the love bomber comes along and does just that. I thought he must be infatuated with me, nothing more than that. I was enjoying a break from my usual routine. My life is wonderfully full, filled with what I have made for myself through lots of effort. For me, it was a vacation and nothing more. One-on-one with LB wasn’t bad, but I later realized that was the only time I enjoyed his company. A relationship has to be more than just the two of you; it has to be shared with others. He is not good with other people, not even a random smile to a passing stranger. I also found him secretive, though I couldn’t figure out why. I would ask him a question, and he was really good at deflecting. There is something strange about someone who doesn’t initiate contact with others yet overshares on Facebook. Facebook seemed to be his comfort zone. We all know that many of the posts we see on social media don’t tell the whole story. I also noticed that his Facebook friends were only connected to him; no one was connected to anyone else. For instance, I have friends I share on Facebook with over 100 other people. Looking back, I think this should be a warning to anyone. Why didn’t he share any friends with others? 

We visited Monserrate in Bogota after working out together in the morning. We enjoyed some wine and beautiful views before heading out to lunch in the Candelaria district of Bogotá. He actually talked to me a bit, and when we went out to lunch, we discovered we liked similar light meals. Again, I want to add that this could be another trait of love bombing. They will mirror everything you like to make themselves more integrated into your psyche. On the second night, as we walked through a trendy part of Bogotá, I felt uncomfortable. We found a great restaurant, but there was only silence between us as we walked the streets, which is unusual for me. He didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable I was; he kept clearing his throat, and I was worried he was getting sick. That’s when I realized he didn’t mind not making conversation, not even when the silence felt heavy. I was dressed up and felt good, but he didn’t seem to notice. Later, he’d say our trip was perfect, but I remember that night as a red flag. I loved sightseeing in Bogotá, but that dinner wasn’t fun for me. I remember it as a contemporary place, without any romance from the person who had been showering me with attention all day.  On our last day, we visited the salt mines, which were fascinating. We were at the back of our group, and when a woman spoke to me in English, he didn’t engage with her. I love meeting new people. She was a Colombian living in the USA but visiting Colombia. We walked together for a little while, with LB sort of holding back. I didn’t know this was normal for him until later. We had a driver who took us to another colorful pueblo for lunch. I ordered a lot of food, tapas style. LB became cranky when his Coke didn’t show up quickly. I had to go and find out where it was. He was arrogant and a bit rude. I didn’t like that. When we both left the next morning, I thought what would happen next was up to him.

After Bogotá, he was attentive to me via text, again with the songs and memes, and asked to meet up. He sent me a round-trip ticket to the Northeast since I wanted to see the fall leaves. After a long journey from Cali, Colombia, to the NYC area, I was excited to visit my best friend in Newport, and LB drove me there and went to visit his aunt. I appreciated that he helped me reconnect with my friend. Shannon and I laughed like old times. When LB joined us, I finally realized he didn’t like being around people he didn’t know, and he seemed uninterested in being friendly to my friend. Shannon tried to get him to talk, showing him local sights like Fort Adams, and still managed to keep things light while engaging him in a one-sided conversation. Later, Shannon said she knew our relationship wouldn’t last based on our conversations; I did share what could be construed as red flags. That day, with LB and Shannon, reminded me that while moments of excitement when LB focused only on me can be welcome, staying true to myself and being honest about what I want matter most. At this point in the relationship, I was learning things about LB, and he was learning things about me. There are no hidden meanings when you allow people to be who they are. True freedom comes when the mind is not chained to outcomes. Seeing that LB was not comfortable with my best friend was a warning. Not necessarily a red flag.

After visiting Fort Adams in Newport, we had lunch by the water at The Moorings. We ordered a bottle of wine and enjoyed great seafood. With the wine, LB became a bit more outgoing, but not in a way I’d call warm. My thoughts were, “Remember, Michele, not everyone is like you and Shannon; they might not be as outgoing.” Once we said goodbye to Shannon and got back on the road, LB returned to being charming and affectionate—holding my hand, kissing me, and giving me lots of attention. I couldn’t help but wonder why he acted so differently around my friend. We drove to a hotel because he had planned a day of leaf viewing at the Rockefeller State Park Preserve. It was a long drive, and I badly wanted to put on some music, but I couldn’t because I didn’t have internet on my phone while out and about in the USA. I found it strange that he didn’t play music from his phone through the speaker. After all, we did nothing but send each other songs. I had the beautiful fall colors to look at, but something about the music bothered me. I realized it was because the night before, at the hotel, I had put music on from my tablet. We heard a song that he declared would be our song. He said this should be a wedding song. Then said, “Oh, yeah, you never want to get married again.” I didn’t say anything because I had made that clear. However, right before that, he had chastised me for interrupting him at lunch earlier. He doesn’t talk to anyone enough to actually interrupt him. He also told me he loved me that night. That was a definite chaotic turn of events in my mind. I couldn’t keep up with the topsy-turvy way his mind worked. I also was dreading going to sleep and hearing him snore. I put in the earplugs I brought.

When we arrived at the park, the weather was perfect. A cloudless day awaited us, with the leaves all changing colors. I couldn’t have been more content. I had come to see the beautiful fall colors, and he had delivered them to me perfectly. We wandered the park, holding hands, and I lost the unease I sometimes felt around him. We were both quiet in a good way and stopped to have a small snack while sitting in the woods. As a glamper all of my adult life, I could not have had a more perfect morning. Nature parks are my forte. The scenery itself was like the joy I always take in when I am at my own place in Colombia. Small pleasures are how I live in the present at all times. I took in the colors, the clear skies, and the sounds of children laughing. I love being stimulated by my surroundings.  We had sandwiches waiting for us in the car for our ride back later. We were going to spend the night in New York City. I could not have been happier. I had not been to the city in years.  I found I had no appetite and was starting to get a headache. We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon, right under the Brooklyn Bridge.  I had to lie down immediately because the headache was horrible. I felt nauseous. I wanted to feel better so I could go out in the city that night. After rest and a Tylenol, I forced myself to get going, but it was very hard. The cold air really helped. When we left the hotel, the young hotel receptionist looked at me and remarked on how cute I looked. It was another curious moment for me because, just like in Bogotá, LB seemed not to like the attention I got when we went out; he never remarked on my looks or my style. I have always attracted attention because I have always dressed with flair. Everything I have read about love bombing is based on how they want to be the ones who give you all the attention you need, so you crave it and look to them for that dopamine hit.

That night in Brooklyn, looking across the Hudson River at the skyscrapers of New York City brought back memories of layovers from my past as a flight attendant. The weather was cold, but not overly so. It was helping me to feel better. We found a crowded, popular restaurant and were given a quiet spot in the back, since the only table was near a door. I loved that too, because whenever the cold air entered, I felt better. I didn’t know why I felt so off, but I did. After dinner, we walked around and then drove through some areas from LB’s past growing up in Brooklyn. It is so interesting how times change neighborhoods, and they become so swank when they were once the projects. LB was the most talkative I had ever seen him be. He loved showing me where he grew up and places from his past that were now restaurants or fancy buildings that had once been liquor stores with apartments on the top floors. For me, it was wonderful being in the city. I couldn’t wait to go out the next day and experience more. Back at the hotel, I fell asleep quickly with hopes that whatever was bothering me would leave by the next day. When I awoke the next morning, I felt better. After breakfast, we were off to see the One World Observatory. I had always wanted to see this towering structure built after the tragedy of 9/11. As a retired flight attendant, I felt a close connection to that day. It was, to me, the best way to end my vacation in the United States. I felt a quiet synchronicity inside my soul, visiting this sacred site, which represented so many who died that day. We had lunch at the very top, overlooking the breathtaking views of New York City. I could almost hear the song New York, New York playing in my mind. We ended this wonderful day at a bar in SoHo, drinking Tequila with an old college friend of LB’s. I was completely over whatever caused my headache. The next day, I had an early flight home to Colombia. After I arrived home, Shannon called and said she had COVID. I wasn’t sick at all, but we figured I must have been the one to give it to her. She came down with it on my last Sunday in New York City, and I must have had COVID when I had that headache on the Saturday before. I had a test, so I took it, and sure enough, I tested positive. I had never had COVID that I know of, so I isolated. I called LB and told him to test. He said, ” No need, I have no symptoms.” I didn’t either, but still, you can spread it to others; he didn’t seem to care. Wow, a big red flag waved in front of my eyes. Who goes out and spreads COVID?

I won’t lie, a long-distance relationship takes work.  We didn’t have plans to see each other until LB came to Colombia in December. That would be more than a month of texts and calls. Since he had made it clear to me that he was in love, I knew we would have to stay in regular touch to keep that energy going. I told him I loved him, but I wasn’t sure. I wanted to be in love; I liked the romance of it. But, did I really love him?  The memes and songs can only go so far. We would talk on the phone occasionally. As I look back on that month by reading my WhatsApp, it was just more of the same. Love songs, back-and-forth, memes, and then one day he didn’t contact me. I had never spent time with LB outside of these vacations. To think he was in love with me and I with him seemed premature to me. I knew the only way to tell was for him to come back to Colombia and see how he was day to day with other people around him. I wouldn’t be with him all the time; I would be taking care of my business, and we were entering the busiest time of the year for the tourist industry. I was already booked into January, and it was only November. I remember the date because it was the day before Veterans’ Day. I had noticed his texts were falling off, maybe mine were too, but I tried. He hearted something I sent, then nothing for almost two days. Being me, I didn’t send anything else.  I know it was Veterans’ Day, and I should have said something to him because he was a Veteran, but I knew he was not contacting me deliberately. That man was always on his phone. He never put it down. So I ignored him, too. This is the way I look at these things. I do not have time for nonsense. I am too busy in my life to play stupid games with anyone. I was tired of not talking on the phone like regular people. He posted a Photoshop image of himself on Facebook as a much younger, handsome version, and he received accolades all day from friends. If you have time to post, you have time to say hi to me.

After that long period, he called me. He asked me what was wrong. I said I was wondering the same. I explained that as the owner of a successful business, I don’t have time for bullshit games. I make time for him, and he should make time for me if he really wants this relationship to work. It wasn’t the longest nor friendliest call. He said he would have to think about it. I was fine with that, because why waste each other’s time? The next day, he called me and said he wanted to make it work and would make an effort to stay in touch every day. Finally, he would call me once a day, and there weren’t as many memes doing the talking for him. The only thing is, the calls always had to revolve around him, his day, his book, his work, him, him, him. Any time I brought up anything related to my work, it was quickly brushed aside. If I called him, he would say I have to call back at his convenience, after he ate or whatever. Meanwhile, I was running my hotel and would take his calls when I was eating or working. Again, I guess this isn’t the etiquette required in this social media age, but I am not like that. I am who I am; I don’t go by any rules except my own rules of life that I live by. In the back of my mind, I wondered what it would be like when he arrived in December, and I had guests. I chatted with my brother from another mother and told him what was going on. He, of course, scolded me: “Michele, look at what you have done! You moved to another country and opened a hotel, and speak another language. Don’t let some random man make you think of moving, marrying, or changing one thing you have accomplished!” I knew that was true, and sometimes LB would send memes about getting married. I would always say, “Now you know I never want to get married.” I never waivered on that. Also, LB was a divorce attorney! He would know better than anyone about why I was turned off to marriage, after two failed ones in my life.

He arrived in December, after almost 1.5 months apart. I knew this relationship wasn’t going to succeed if we always had to wait that long to see each other. One can only take so much of these memes. At least when I was with him, there was a break from that.  Also, there was too much about him that I didn’t know. Sometimes I would try to get him to open up about his past, but crickets. I, well, all I do is share about my past. I am an open book; I have had this blog for years now. We both agreed not to publicize anything about our relationship on social media. I have to be honest: his chat style, filled with romantic references from songs and reels, was too smooth not to think there might be someone else. I was already thinking I might not want to keep this going, but I would be honest about it. With him, I wasn’t so sure. Especially after he arrived. A few days in, and my thoughts were, what does he do with his life when he is in the States? That phone was always in his hand with a headphone in his ear. He was messy, which I didn’t really notice when we were traveling because we were staying in hotels, not my clean glamping place, which he was treating like a hotel on the road. I would get up between 5:30 and 6:00 am, and he would be sleeping. But then he would expect breakfast to be served to him, all meals while he was here, unless we went out. He never washed one dish, picked up his clothes, and threw wet towels on the bed. He barely acknowledged Adriana, my employee, but expected her to wait on him and do his laundry. My son was here, and he barely spoke to him. He spent most of his time in my Suite or on the balcony adjacent to my room.  Of course, that phone was attached to him as if it were part of his body. He complained that I would sit with him for a while, then jump up and go do something, leaving him alone. I don’t care whether I am in a relationship or not; I am not responsible for entertaining someone by being with them constantly. This, to me, an independent woman, is absolutely horrifying. Then we went out to dinner on the first Saturday after his arrival, and I knew that this wasn’t going to work even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.

We had plans to go on a two-day road trip to Nevada del Ruiz the next day. One of Colombia’s most biodiverse areas. I was able to go because my son was going to run my place for me. LB had only been here for a couple of days, and I was already feeling exhausted from running my hotel and taking care of him. We made plans to go out to dinner. I invited my son to join us, but he declined. I drove us down the mountain to this popular restaurant in La Buitrera. This restaurant has beautiful aesthetics but really bland food. They serve a good cocktail, though. I ordered a blue margarita, and LB ordered a mojito. We placed an order for food, and my son showed up to say hi. I was so pleased because I knew he had come by for me. LB said hi, while my son tried to engage him in conversation. I thought, let’s see how this goes. I love my son more than anyone in this world. He is my number one person, my love, my defender of everything. I can assure you he didn’t want to be with us. I had seen how LB had been so withdrawn, with no interaction, in the two days he had been here. When I say I was shocked, I mean it politely. LB put on his headphones and listened to whatever he was listening to while my son tried to engage him in conversation. I tapped LB and said, ” Take your headphones out.” CJ tried to talk to him about football, anything, it didn’t matter, LB mumbled answers. So CJ and I talked. LB put his headphones back in, and I realized that this was f**ked up. CJ hurried through his meal and said goodbye, and off he went. LB took the headphones out when he left. We ordered another cocktail. LB chatted away with me like he hadn’t been the rudest person ever. We left to buy some wine for the week in another shopping area, and LB got mean to me. He made fun of me for having blue lips from the cocktail I had been drinking. All I could think was he never says how nice I look, but he sure loved saying I had blue lips. To think I had ten more days with him. When we returned home, I found my son and apologized.

To be continued……..

Have you ever experienced something that felt like love bombing, or wondered later if it might have been? If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear your story or thoughts in the comments.

Posted in Achievements, Be Kind, child death, Colombia, expat life, friendship, Uncategorized

What Feels Right for Me? Exploring Almost 15 Year’s Living in Colombia.

What relationships have a positive impact on you?

Let’s face it, life is an ebb and flow. We lose relationships and gain new ones. We look through photo albums and remember how certain people were so important in our lives, yet now we have no contact with them. Doesn’t it make you sad? Of course, for some, we look for them on social media, find them, and reconnect. Others, we sigh and say Oh well, what fun it was when we were friends. For me, I totally changed my life. I left and moved to Colombia after my daughter died and found a new beginning. Some friends didn’t like that I left my son with his father, and found me to be a bad mother. To be honest, it hurt me because some of the people I respected were among them. But I do not live my life for other people’s opinions, nor for what society deems correct. I live for what makes me healthy and whole. What I did may have seemed hurtful at first, but it turned out to be a wonderful thing for my son later, when he needed to live with me here in Colombia and heal. You know, as I have said many times, the death of a child is devastating in ways no one can understand. Only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend. I myself have been healing for almost 15 years since she died. I think perhaps I am healed. But then, the New Year is upon us, and it will be another death anniversary where I remember her death as if it just happened. With that acknowledgement, I go to the subject at hand. What relationships have a positive impact on me?

Anyone who is authentically independent. My daughter was that way, I am that way; anyone who is focused on their own path, standing by their own choices, even when they are unpopular, is alright with me. How can we be happy in life if we live to only please others? When we decide to change to please others, we start giving away pieces of ourselves. No one should do that. As my mother always told me, “Be original, not a carbon copy!” I honor her words every single day, because anyone who knows me knows that I am who I am…good or bad, you will have an opinion of me.

I like people who are culturally aware. Those who have a need to look outside of what their world is and try to understand that others live differently. I appreciate the people around me who are intelligent enough to look beyond their own lives and realize there are other perspectives in this great big world. I live that way, so I can comment on it honestly. I am a foreigner in Colombia, which has given me more cultural awareness than I could glean from any book, fiction or nonfiction. I am so grateful I have experienced everything that I have while living here in Colombia. Some things are not so good, and some experiences are so amazing that I will die and relive them on my deathbed.

My relationships are genuine, honest, and real. I love relatable human beings. Engaging people are interesting, they laugh, they uplift others, and joy is part of their daily life. They show gratitude in life. They try not to be complainers. I chose not to complain when the worst happened to me. I still live that way. I try to wake up smiling, and it has gotten easier over the years, living in the little paradise I have created. I can speak Spanish; I am loved, and I am bold. Be bold, people! Unfortunately, today’s world is not for the meek. It is not what happens to you but how you react to it, good or bad. As I enter a New Year, I have realized that the only person who controls me is me. Those who are in my inner circle know I never stop, I cannot sit still for long because I am constantly moving. Why? I don’t know, but it is who I am, maybe it is the past trauma I experienced, and when I do relax, it is with a glass of wine. Who would ever think I would change my life so drastically, and that it would turn out okay? But it did. After almost fifteen years in Colombia, I am still finding myself, but in a good way. I wish the same for all of you!

Posted in entrepenuer, Flight attendant life, flight attendants, Life as a flight attendant, Stewardess, Uncategorized

Flight Attendant Living

This is a short excerpt of the book that I am writing about my life and adventures. My book will include using my skills as a flight attendant to open an Ecolodge in the Andes Mountains of Colombia. I have never thought of myself as an entrepreneur. I worked for Delta since I was 20 years old until I retired in August of 2008. I was given the best training to  open and own a business in the tourist industry. I will expand on the stories and memories I have shared with many more tales in my upcoming book which I am actively working on. I  am still working on a title of my book. However, I often think of calling it “Two Empty Seats” because I have been to hell and back since my daughter was murdered in 2010.

DC 8 chairs
Original DC-8 Chairs from Delta Air Lines

At no time would I think I would find pieces of my past in Colombia. They are in a Museo Aereo Fenix . I visited this museum and saw silverware, cards, uniforms and more from Delta Air Lines. This museum left such a lasting impression on me, along with my 30 plus years as a flight attendant for Delta Air Lines, I decided on a name for my book after visiting and spending hours checking out the museum. I realized I have had a very interesting life, which will include my time as a flight attendant for the best airline in the world, Delta. I grew up with Delta. I am sharing a blog that I wrote as a guest writer for another blogger below. I hope you will enjoy. It will only be one chapter in a book that will include more than just my time as a flight attendant.

Flight Attendant Living

As a retired flight attendant I look back on memories of my life as a hostess in the sky with fondness. I was hired at the age of 19, by Delta Air Lines, then I started training when I was 20 years old. The year was 1978, and air travel was still elegant and the job was considered glamorous. I had always wanted to be a flight attendant since I read the book, “Coffee, Tea, or Me,”when I was quite young. I took a trip to Europe with my elementary school and I was quite fascinated with the stewardesses who were all so pretty and elegant. I remember the plane ride like it was yesterday. I really wanted to travel the world like they did.

In 1978, the interviews were held at the corporate offices of Delta in Atlanta, Georgia. I was sent a ticket to Atlanta and really had no idea what the dress code was nor what was expected of me. I was very fortunate to get an interview and it is still very difficult to get hired by Delta Air Lines. I arrived at the interview with a dress I found to be quite pretty. It was brown, with a Chinese style jacket, and a delicate embroidery. I had on 5 inch heels that matched my dress. I walked into the waiting area and 40 other people (mostly women in those days) turned and looked at me with surprise. They all had on the same clothing style: a plain navy suit, including the men. I was a little intimidated by that. I have always been my own person, so I felt I could do well by standing out as a unique individual. I met with the first interviewer and she immediately brought up my outfit! I explained I was a disco dancer and this is how we dressed when dancing. That was the only style I knew. I was hired and my nickname in training was “Disco.”

After graduation from training, a group of  us were put in the Atlanta base, although we did have a base in Miami. We all rented in the same place that was close to the airport and we waited to be called for work since we were on reserve.

Roxanne and I
Seriously, look at the place we graduated at. An RV in the background.  A Gas Station, times have changed since this photo was taken!

We carried a “beeper” when we were not near a phone. We had to always have a bag packed for trips and be ready at all times for our job. It definitely took getting use to. I remember my first flights as hectic, but I have always been a quick learner. I worked very hard to do my best.

I became proficient quickly, and even was made flight leader rapidly. I received a base transfer to Miami and was again living with a group of flight attendants who rented at the same apartment complex in Kendall, Florida. One of those flight attendants was in the famous crash of the Air Florida Flight 90 that hit a bridge during a snow storm leaving Washington National Airport. Her name is Kelly Duncan and we were friends, her father was a captain at Delta. Kelly survived, and I will always remember watching her on television being lifted out of that icy water still in her flight service smock. We were all so young and didn’t look at our job as scary. This changed all of us at our apartment complex. We realized we were not just in this job for fun and travel, we were there for safety more than anything else.

I was the youngest in my class and at my base in Miami; however, I acquired seniority quickly. Many hired after me would stay on reserve for years, but I held a “line”as it was called back then in my 6th month of flying. I held really awful routes, but I knew my schedule. I always ended up with New York City layovers, and I was the A line quite often, which id what the flight leader was called in 1978. One time I was on the DC ‘stretch 8’ as the A line flying home to Miami from La Guardia airport and the engines caught fire as we started taking off. The was aborted immediately. I was only 21 years old. I did as I had been taught for emergencies and spoke with the Captain immediately. He said have everyone remain seated. I walked back through the cabin and looked out the windows and saw we were surrounded by fire trucks. Then we were towed back to the airport. The passengers were taking photos, and they didn’t panic. However, they did complain a lot about the delay. We changed airplanes and made it back to Miami that night. I think when this happened, I really grew up and into my job. To this day, I don’t panic when there is a situation that requires attention or there is an emergency.

Many people think of flight attendants as waitresses in the skies, but nothing could be further from the truth. As I continued on with my life as a flight attendant, I remained based in Miami and Delta had opened a base in Ft. Lauderdale. I moved to Ft. Lauderdale because this where I grew up and I had many friends. We often buddy bid together, and swapped trips to fly with each other, or to change our schedules. Then the unthinkable happened. Flight 191 from Ft. Lauderdale to Dallas, crashed with all of my friends working that flight. This crash resulted in the longest aviation trial in history and many movies, documentaries, news articles were written about this horrific crash. To this day, I am friends with many of the same people and we always recognize this anniversary on social media. The friends we lost impacted all of us greatly. We were all changed forever by the loss of our friends. Three of our co-workers survived. I am friends with one of them. A lovely courageous soul who wasn’t injured, but had to watch fireballs flying by and see others dying. She was one of the last to leave the tail section that had broken away from the other part of the Lockheed L-1011 aircraft. She had to get help to get another survivor from he plane. We all had done this trip before. They should have ended up in Los Angeles International Airport, a favorite layover spot for all of us at the time. I was in Dallas on a layover when this crash happened. I remember taking off and flying over the debris of the crash. It was there for a long time. When I arrived home I had a voice message on my voice recorder from Diane Johnson, a flight attendant killed in the crash. It haunts me to this day.

Many wonder what life is like for a flight attendant. What we do on layovers, how hard is the job, do we mind going away from our families, what is it like for boarding and deplaning, our work rules and more. As I continued with my career, times changed and so did my job. I was able to hold nice layovers, and as usual, I flew with my fiends. The job is not easy. We have to board and set up the plane before the passengers enter and wait until the last passenger leaves before we either go on to another flight or a layover. I flew domestic for most of my career and LAX layovers were always the best to have. We would always have celebrities on our flights back in those days. I had so many bands, singers, politicians, sports-players announcers, actors, a prince and even a President. Richard Nixon flew on my plane, and I have an autographed personal card from him. Prince Albert of Monaco was another guest in first class. He did like to flirt and he did with me when I served him. Most celebrities are really nice, but I had Coretta Scott King on my flight and she would not even speak with me or order her own food or beverages, but her bodyguard gave me an autographed pamphlet. Huey Lewis is one of my favorites and he spent most of his flight in the galley chatting with us flight attendants. I had Bill Gates and he was super humble and nice also. You just never knew who would be showing up on any flight, but as progress took over , we would get manifests that would show who the first class passengers were and we would know beforehand sometimes. Joan Rivers was a hoot, and she was so tiny. I remember her eyes watered the entire flight like she had just had surgery on them. Sometimes a famous person would give us tickets to shows or invite us out.Retirement photo 2

What do we do on layovers? If it is short, we sleep. If it is long, we go out and have fun. I flew International during my final years and we had to set an alarm when we would arrive because we flew all night. Two hours was the limit we would sleep and then we would meet and do fun things, I have seen a lot of the world. Rome is a favorite, any layover in South America is always fun. I have ended up living in Colombia as an expat because I enjoyed my time spent in Guatemala, Buenos Aires, Chile, and Peru. Because of my training customer service, I have opened an Ecolodge in Colombia for those who enjoy nature and adventure. Paris is a lovely city that I never tire of, so is Dublin, Ireland.  Ireland just opened an embassy in Colombia! Who could get tired of traveling to other countries? I enjoyed many fun layovers in Germany also. My favorite domestic layovers were California, Arizona, NYC, Boston, Seattle,and Savannah, GA. However, there were always fun things to do everywhere, if we had enough time. I loved my San Diego layovers, many times I would go with fellow flight attendants to visit Tijuana, Mexico. One time we rented horses and rode on the beach in California. The only problem was our horses were untrained and went crazy on us. They took off riding in the direction of Mexico. Picture this, people sunbathing and seeing 4 horses out of control running on the beach, all the people were running away, or entering the water! I was holding on with my hands, thinking I am going to fall off! I had ridden horses since I was really young, this was something I have never experienced since. I will never forget the loudspeaker “GO BACK YOU ARE ENTERING MEXICO!” and all of the people running into the ocean just like a real movie scene. I still can’t believe we weren’t arrested. I finally got control of my horse and we all turned back and entered United States soil again. But the horses were sweating and horribly upset. One horse escaped. So we had three horses and 4 of us. We tried to get two of us on the same horse but that didn’t work. Slowly we started back, and all of a sudden an all terrain vehicle came up and took our friend with them. We returned all the horses, the one that escaped was already back and we drove our rental car to the hotel. Just one adventure of many in my 30 years of flying. A memorable one for sure.

Retirement photo 3
My last day of flying

As I grew older, I found my patience was thin for the demanding passengers that seemed to feel that with their tickets they bought the airplane and the crew. Cellphones and computers were always on even when people were told to turn them off. People wouldn’t follow instructions when there was turbulence, and the days became longer. Delta could keep us on duty for over 16 hours if they called irregular operations. This is a part of the job passengers have no idea. There were many times all I had to eat were the snacks offered to the passengers. I did take a bag of food with me all the time, and it isn’t easy to pack an entire food bag for a 3 day trip. When the terror attack of 9/11 happened, everything changed. The fun camaraderie enjoyed by flight crews of all bases ended. We became like soldiers in the sky. We were often told in our yearly training classes for updated security and safety, to look for the danger that now is a part of our job experience. It was still fun to get together with others on layovers, but the job was one of intense briefings before flights, and many flight attendants took it too far. I can say I have lost friends over their actions on the plane towards their co-workers. People who fly often don’t realize we are not paid during boarding. We are paid when the door closes, and the pay stops when the boarding door opens. The boarding process is the most stressful part of our job. They became mini dictators, and I didn’t like it. As flight attendants, we are the boss of ourselves in the air. The flight leader gave the briefings, but many became different. Mini drill sergeants with ridiculous expectations. The fun for me left. I was offered a buyout at the age of 50. I had always been young for my seniority and I retired with 30 years and 4 months. I can never describe what my job as a flight attendant gave me, except to say, I am doing well operating a hotel in another country. I have even learned to speak Spanish. I thin a person who takes on the job as a flight attendant has a special part of their soul seeking adventure. I am certain that describes my outlook on life completely. Adventure is the world for all flight attendants.

Look for more little tidbits of my book written for my blog. Sign up and follow me if you have not already.

Retirement photo
My last day of flying the friendly skies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, Grief, life lessons, parents of deceased children, sadness, Uncategorized

Jail Time

That time I went to jail I have never written about. People who are close to me know. I am writing a chapter for my book now about my 36 hours in Broward County jail.  It is still so fresh in my memory. It was horrible, I was shown a side of society I didn’t know existed. Jail was something I read about in books, or watched in movies. The reality is very different. No matter your place in society, the treatment is disturbing from the moment you are arrested to the time inside the jail, the lack of compassion, the complete cruelty I experienced by the police and the people who worked in the prison. However, the other inmates were pretty darn cool with me. It was obvious to them I didn’t belong there. They comforted me, they gave me a lot of reasons to write it down, but I never did. I have never written about it before because it shows my daughter in a way that is not flattering, something that I have not wanted to do. I need to heal myself, recent events have made me realize I have not done that. Even with therapy, my move to Colombia, these moments in time exist and they bring me to places I only think about when I awake at night and cannot sleep.

I was arrested on false charges. I was an innocent to what the rules are when the police show up at your door. I had no clue about anything about police visits to your home. If I had known, this experience would never have happened. It was a nightmare that you dream and then wake up with your heart beating fast inside your chest. Surreal, incomprehensible, I am sure my mug shot exists somewhere even though all charges were expunged. I didn’t even understand that they were taking my mug shot. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t understand all that was happening and it was very harsh, with a lot of merciless treatment by all involved who work in the system of Broward County, Florida.

Now I am writing it down in a chapter for my book. I am leaving nothing out. The dreadful side of my daughter, the crappy friends she had, one who has my sweet grandchild in her care right now without any legal papers of custody. I am telling the story. All of it, the lessons I learned from experiences I had no control over. Including my daughter meeting the father of my beloved grandchild. I am going to tell you the entire experience from the time of my arrest until I was let out to the street outside the jail of Broward County without a charged cell phone, no shoes, and no money.

A wonderful cab driver gave me a ride with my promise of payment if he could just take me to my house. I didn’t even have a key to get inside my own home! I will always remember the kind treatment I received from the other inmates, from that cab driver, the father of my grandchild: who when he heard what Misha had done made her immediately go to drop the charges. This is hard just to say in a blog. I went to jail. I was 50 years old, I could have lost my job, that is what Misha did. Wait for it. Coming soon to all who want to buy my book. I am writing the chapter now. It is funny at times, but it is also very terrifying to anyone who might think it could never happen to you. It can and I experienced it.

 

 

Posted in Alternative Lifestyle, Awakening, child death, Colombia, Entreprenuer, expat life, family, love, Signs of the Universe, Spiritual Presence, strength, Uncategorized, Waiting

The Surprises in Life

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/astonish/

This blog is a follow-up to my blog about finding love when I least expected it, I was astonished by all the outpouring of support that was sent my way when I wrote about  the surprise of meeting someone special. So take a moment and read this blog first before you continue on.

Life is like a river, it flows one way and then it sometimes changes directions. I compare my life to a river often. I believe I have lived two lives in this lifetime. One was as a mother to my children, and the next life started when I decided to move to Colombia after Misha was murdered. It was not an easy decision and I carry a lot of guilt for leaving, but I have found that you cannot control destiny. Everyone has free will, even our children.  I have not stopped thinking about my past life, I really wouldn’t want those memories to be gone. Cherished memories. So I accept I have had two separate lives. Both have had wonderful times, and terrible times. We do have many chances in life, even if those chances cause pain to us in other ways. My choice to move has been wonderful for healing, but whenever I go to the United States the past rears its head. Always so dramatically. I left that, I don’t want the drama, I don’t want the pressure of trying to be the best at whatever it is anyone is trying to be the best at, I don’t want that life anymore. So I need to write about how strange I felt this last time I visited the United States after two years.

The night I met Avi was special because of things I have found out since this fateful encounter. First of all, and I mention it in the blog you need to read first, I asked him to dance. I say this because apparently it is still not a common occurrence for a woman to ask a man to dance. I have been told this by Avi and by my friends also. This shows you I live differently in the jungle of Colombia. We dance here when we have parties at our homes. I ask anyone to dance and this includes my women friends. We just dance. It is that simple. So, what do I mean by this? Avi found it delightful that I approached him and said do you want to dance? I was so amazed by that, which will show that I have become more innocent since living in Colombia. I don’t think nor know about any of the things that could be socially inept. I just live. I have deliberately isolated myself, and with that comes social incompetence. But I do have a lovely and simple existence. I am successful to a degree with my hotel Villa Migelita Ecolodge, and I am very happy to be alone with just me. I might be writing my book, or I might be photographing the nature I am so accustomed to, or I might be studying the Spanish I am still struggling with. I think many people would not like my uncomplicated life, but for me it is perfect. I like being alone. I like my own company, and I love nature and my animals. A perfect combination for me.

Let me say a bit about Avi , he is a person of great integrity. He knows what he wants in a woman and has been looking for someone for a while. I can’t say the same about me. I am flawed, and imperfect to a great degree. I have not been looking for anyone. I changed when my daughter was murdered. I just don’t care what anyone thinks, says or wants from me. I am truly and completely direct with everyone. So this probably makes me a bit unusual. Avi says it is a great thing, I am not so sure. I will say this relationship has gotten better with distance and the wonderful world of being able to talk and see each other through social media. I am way too uninhibited in my thoughts, but to someone like Avi this is a good thing. He finds it refreshing, unusual and to use a word my mother always called me : unique. I am that for sure.

That night Avi and I met we danced and I found out the next day the earring I wore of Misha’s that I had in my second ear-piercing was gone. I was devastated. I had already lost one earring from when she had passed that I took from her body before she was cremated. This earring her best friend gave me without knowing I had been wearing another earring and had lost it. I remember her saying I only have one when she handed it to me. When I woke up and I realized the earring was gone and there would not be another earring to replace it, I was sad. Here is a video of my television interview in Baton Rouge when I was trying to get a trial for my deceased daughter. You can clearly see the earring that I lost the night I met Avi, Gabrielle had given it to me the night before my interview. That morning when I left the cruise ship I felt I left a part of Misha behind at sea.

Now as time has passed and Avi is coming to see me this week, I am beginning to think there was a reason for the loss of the earring. Maybe it is time for me to move on with my life. Maybe I have a future, because I haven’t really looked at my life as having one. I have just lived one day, one step, one moment at a time. The loss of this second earring; maybe it is a message to me from Misha to allow myself to love again, to let go of her, to begin fresh.

Avi has his work cut out with me. I am surely different which he discovered the first night we met. I am also an innocent in this world now. I didn’t turn hard from the lack of justice, I turned inward. I often feel that I can never trust anything again. This man killed my daughter, yet the judge gave him the correct sentence and then she suspended it. She even acknowledged the thousands of letters she received to give him jail time. She didn’t. I felt so betrayed. I withdrew into myself even more.

I had not had a real date with a man in a long time, so when I had lunch with Avi I was nervous and socially awkward. I then had dinner with him later that evening after I missed my flight back to Colombia and I felt like an alien from outer space. I looked around and every person had their phones out and no one was interacting with each other. I don’t do that here in Colombia. I use it for communication, and some of my social media work sites. I remember looking around at a lot of noise and lights, and feeling very uncomfortable. I can’t imagine that I even kept up a normal conversation with Avi. But now since I have returned  to Colombia we have such profound discussions, and I am slowly learning to trust him.

I have made it clear to Avi I am difficult to understand, I sometimes appear cold, unreachable. That I like being alone. I don’t need to have anyone entertain me, nor do I need to be out and in crowds. I am never unkind purposely, but I am distant sometimes. It is who I am now. He accepts this about me, in fact he loves this about me. My directness.

He will be here for Mother’s Day, a day I really find so distressing. He says we shall go out and celebrate you as a mother, you are a mother and deserve to be admired as one. I hope I can enjoy the day with him. He is certainly kind and thoughtful, and I believe he truly loves me, even with my baggage.

Stay tuned, the future is in front of me, but as usual I live my life one day at a time. Some days are not so great, while others are beautiful and full of hope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Alternative Lifestyle, Colombia, Colombian life, Entreprenuer, freedom, happiness, hotel, Uncategorized

The Life I Have Made in Colombia. End of 2017 Reflections

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/proclivity/

In order to be free we have to be willing to think for ourselves, learn for ourselves, and to live our lives as our real true selves. Being free is when you are able to get past others opinions, when you are able to make decisions on what is best for you based on what is happening in your personal life, and not worry about what others may think, say or do. Being free is making choices that might not conform to a standard expected by a majority of people, but following your instincts and persevering no matter how many obstacles you may encounter. This is why some people are successful and others are not. I have found that quitting is not an option for me. The strength I have obtained because of stumbling blocks in my journey is invaluable. I thought the one thing I lost when I moved to Colombia was independence, but in actuality I have gained it. As I progress on this journey, I learn more about myself and what I am capable of. I am able to do what I need to do to secure a life filled with my passion for nature and animals.

Recently I had this lovely couple visit Villa Migelita Ecolodge.

Elaine and Marshall
My friend of many years and her husband at La Ruiza, Valle del Cauca, Colombia

The gorgeous woman you see has been my friend for almost 40 years. She came to visit Villa Migelita a couple of years ago with our other sidekick from the 1980’s Janet. She wanted her husband to see what I have done after such tremendous loss(the death of my daughter) in my life. Their visit has been another turning point for me. Before they arrived I had a lot of upheaval here in Colombia. I have handled it well, but it hasn’t been easy.

Elaine’s husband Marshall was very impressed that I had started a hotel, could speak Spanish and was accomplishing so much while still learning a new language and culture. He is the kind of person who offers sound advice and has a very kind way of saying things that I found comforting, even when it was constructive criticism. I don’t often speak about the things that have gone wrong while living in a new country, because so much has been right I don’t want to dwell  on the times I have struggled. However, I haven’t really had many people say to me ‘”hey you’re doing a great job!” In fact, hardly anyone says much as I move forward each day with my growing business. I have a proclivity to self talk negatively to myself since my daughter died. I try not to, but to be honest I do. So when someone I didn’t know said he couldn’t believe what I had done here with my life and my business,  I was delighted to have someone validate the strenuous undertaking of creating a hotel in another country. He also said the entire time I should have Netflix come and do a documentary on my life.  I have been featured in Yahoo Finance and International Living, all because I reached out to them. So maybe I will start reaching out to other venues to see if they are interested.

Hummingbirds and Cali at Christmas 046
In Cali, Colombia 2017 at the Festival of Lights in December

Michele 6years ago
6 years ago when I first bought Villa Migelita Ecolodge

 

Colombia has agreed with me. I know many still judge why I left the United States after my daughter was murdered. If you are really interested go back to the beginning of my blogs and read. It was a dreadful time in my life and I just couldn’t make any progress, I felt my personal growth was gone. I made some difficult choices. That is all we can do in troublesome situations. We should be the first priority for our well-being. If we are not, then we can’t show a good example to our children, family or friends.

I keep plugging away with my business. I have had a couple of people work with me, but I have been the one driving the business forward with my social media sites that publicize how Colombia really is. Me alone. I have done this, and I am not really that great with these things, but somehow I have figured out how to do more than I thought I could. I have created a following of people who never knew how wonderful and beautiful Colombia is. The days of old are gone, and Colombia is thriving. The government is really focusing on the tourism industry. So all the hard work I have done over the years I have been living here is starting to pay off. People from all over the world are discovering what a bio-diverse and gorgeous country Colombia is.

So with the lovely words of my friends husband inside my head still, I am feeling pretty good about my life in general. I have learned to deal with unpleasant situations without allowing them to affect my daily life. I know I can handle anything anyone wants to throw at me, I will catch it and throw it back. I will no longer allow others problems to change my way of thinking, I will continue to be the person I am. Yes, I am kind, I am compassionate, and I am strong. Perhaps, the only thing that has happened from my struggles here is that I am less trusting. I am losing that vital part of myself. I have found it is not in my best interest to be trusting, as I have been taken advantage of. Lessons learned and filed away for now.

So I will continue on with my love of Colombia being shown to all. If Colombia has changed it’s image from a turbulent past, so can I. I can become the best person I can be while living a life in Paradise. You see I know Misha is with me in every endeavor I undertake even the ones that are really difficult. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, but I do make goals for myself that I try to follow, this year is to let go of fear. Ever since Misha died I have that fear thing inside of me. I am always waiting for another horrible situation to arise. I have to stop that. I have not allowed her death to stop me from creating what I have. I have to stop the negative talk and start the positive talk inside my head. I need to be proud of what I have accomplished and continue to achieve.

So with that I am going to do my  best to make Colombia a great tourist destination known around the world for nature lovers like myself. I am going to continue my journey of living in the now. I am going to be the free spirit I have always been, but I lost for a little while after my daughter’s death. I am going to try to say I am happy, because I really don’t say that much. I do say I love my life, but I have had trouble with that happiness thing. It seems elusive still, but I am working on it.Michele 2017 in water at Chipichape

 

Posted in Colombian life, Perfection and Peace

Perfection

http://wp.me/p23sd-12×7

I have come to realize that spending time alone is my idea of perfection. Time doing what I want when I want to. Realizing I am comfortable without anyone talking, just listening to the sounds of nature that surround me. Reading, writing, studying, and accepting the simple life I have chosen as a very different alternative to my past life as a flight attendant, when I would be surrounded by over a thousand people a day when I worked domestic flights. Perfection to me is being alone and in harmony with myself.

Perfection is this photo of a simple home along a walk . A cat resting, a dog sleeping, and everything is so simple. The bamboo trees, the color of the house, the simple stables. The curtained window with the flower baskets hanging. Perfection.

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Perfection is the beauty of the country with a river flowing, listening to the sounds of water rushing with my dogs next to my side. The rainforest sounds of birds and insects. Perfection.

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Perfection is sharing part of my day with any of the horses or cows that greet me on my hikes. The life of a true minimalist. Perfection.

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Perfection is quiet solitude when I study Spanish in the evening, or read a book that grips me immediately and I can’t put it down. While looking at the sunset, the mountains, and the home I have created here in Colombia. Perfection.Franchesca

Perfection is seeing many flowers blooming at once. Something I never enjoyed in Florida. Exotic flowers, flowers that I would see for sale in the store but never live on a real plant. Perfection.

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Perfection is a hummingbird sitting on a branch while I do Yoga looking out at the mountains and watching them flit right next to me. Perfection.

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Perfection is a perfect sunset as a rainstorm approaches. Perfection.rainstorm sunset

Perfection is a butterfly on a branch as I walk by. Perfection.Hike to Raul's hacienda 013

Perfection is living my life as I see fit, not caring if others approve or disapprove, living my adventure one day at a time. In peace and happiness with my animals on my beautiful farm in the mountains of Colombia. Perfection.

Hike horseback ride and friends trout place 025
The view from the top