Reconnecting to Heal: A Journey Through Family, Creativity, and Travel

Sometimes, the most unexpected connections are the ones that guide us home—not to a physical place, but to a part of ourselves we thought was lost or had never fully surfaced. These connections remind us that healing and growth often come in the form of a person, a shared story, or a journey we didn’t know we needed. This is a story of such a connection, born not out of convenience or tradition, but out of timing, intention, and love.

Growing up, she and I lived in different emotional and physical worlds. I was a preteen by the time she entered the world, and though we were bound by family, our lives rarely intersected in a meaningful way. The relationship between our mothers was a rhythm of closeness and distance, and that same rhythm echoed in our own bond—or lack thereof. I watched her from a distance, sometimes literally, sometimes emotionally. I knew her milestones only through the grapevine, not through firsthand celebration or shared memories.

But sometimes, life creates a space where connection can take root—and that space came during the quiet storm of COVID. Like many, I was stripped of routine and forced into stillness. And in that stillness, old relationships began to breathe again. Some flickered out, but a few reignited with a new sense of purpose. Ours was one of those rare few. What started as casual check-ins and long-overdue catch-ups soon unfolded into something deeper, more intimate. It wasn’t just a reunion. It was a reconnection—with each other, and with parts of ourselves that only the other could reflect back.

Reconnecting Through Stories

Our conversations soon turned toward the past—not in a nostalgic haze, but in a curious, almost sacred excavation of family history. I had always been the family’s unofficial historian, the keeper of oral traditions passed down from elders now gone. She, on the other hand, had grown up without access to many of those stories. As we talked, I found myself sharing narratives I hadn’t told in years, or ever. She listened with a hunger I hadn’t anticipated, pausing only to say, “You should write this down.”

That one sentence cracked something open in me. I had always loved writing, but her encouragement reawakened my passion with clarity and urgency. I began writing again—not just journaling, but crafting, creating, channeling purpose into pages. Those words eventually became my first book, Eve's Exodus. She didn’t just encourage me from the sidelines—she rolled up her sleeves and proofread every chapter, catching errors and offering insights with the tenderness of someone who truly cared. Her belief in me became a mirror, reflecting a version of myself I’d been longing to see again.

A Retreat for the Soul

As I neared the final stretch of my book, she gifted me something more precious than time or praise—space. Understanding how important it was for me to finish strong, she curated a writing retreat, not in some far-off land, but right in D.C. A staycation, meticulously planned, where everything from accommodations to meals was designed to minimize distraction and maximize creative flow.

It was more than a trip—it was a soul pause. The quiet, the solitude, the intentionality of it all created an environment where the words flowed freely. I was able to wrap up my manuscript in a state of peace rather than pressure.

Celebrating Life, Out Loud

When I turned 50, I was content with the idea of a quiet acknowledgment, maybe a dinner with close friends. But she had other plans. She insisted we mark the milestone in a way that honored the gravity and grace of half a century lived. She planned an unforgettable cruise, filled with love, laughter and reflection under open skies. The following year, for my 51st, she did it again with the same flair.

These weren’t just vacations. They were declarations. Celebrations of survival, of triumph, of becoming. Commemorating these personal milestones improved my emotional well-being and reshaped my outlook on aging. Her assistance and support reminded me that celebration is not indulgent—it’s necessary.

Jamaica: Where the Spirit Finds Rest

She often spoke of Jamaica with a reverence that made me curious. To her, it wasn’t just a destination—it was a sanctuary, a place where her soul found rest. And maybe that’s why, as Mother’s Day approached this year and I found myself yearning to let go of some emotional weight, I floated the idea of going.

Before I could fully commit, she had everything in motion. Through her travel company, Spin the Globe Travels, she designed an entire experience for me—complete with immigration help, daily check-ins, and real-time airport support. All I had to do was pack. When I arrived at Zoëtry, a luxury wellness resort nestled in tranquility, I realized I hadn’t just traveled to a new place. I had journeyed into myself.

Held Through the Journey

There’s travel—and then there’s what she offers. She’s not simply booking flights and hotel rooms; she’s crafting deeply personal journeys. A personal travel concierge, an emotional doula, a logistics magician—her role blends intention with intuition. With her, travel becomes an act of healing. She specializes in guiding first-time travelers through every uncertain moment, making the process feel less like a checklist and more like a ceremony. Her clients don’t just take trips—they embark on transformations. And they come back not just with souvenirs, but with stories, clarity, and renewal.

Healing Through Connection, Creativity, and Curiosity

This entire journey—of writing, reconnecting, traveling—has led me back to myself in the most unexpected and beautiful way. Through her presence, I’ve been reminded of the power of storytelling, the necessity of pausing, and the deep joy of being seen. Relationships, when nurtured with care and intention, can become lifelines. Creativity, when encouraged, becomes a sanctuary. And travel, when curated with love, becomes a homecoming.

The cousin I once barely knew is now one of the most cherished people in my life. And through her eyes, I’ve remembered who I am—someone worthy of celebration, restoration, and boundless love.

Written by Carlita L. Coley, LPC

A view that held me—body, mind, and spirit. This soul-nourishing trip to Jamaica was lovingly curated by my cousin, whose gift for crafting intentional travel experiences turned a simple getaway into a journey of rest, reflection, and renewal.

*****

About the Author

I’m a storyteller, soul-searcher, and advocate for healing through creativity and connection. Writing is my refuge and my ritual—a way to make sense of life’s layered truths and honor the voices that shaped me.

Connecting with my cousin became a profound reminder that some of our deepest healing happens in relationship. That bond not only rekindled my creative spark but reminded me how nurturing joy, and shared history can anchor us during seasons of growth.