After ten years of living a quiet, tropical life on Kauai, I never imagined I’d find myself starting over at sixty in the hills of Tennessee. The island’s beauty shaped me in ways I’ll always carry, but behind the postcard scenery were financial strains and living conditions that made staying impossible.

Leaving wasn’t easy — it meant walking away from a place I loved, selling nearly everything I owned, and stepping into a state I’d never lived in, with no family waiting on the other side. But it also meant choosing hope over hardship, and giving myself the chance to build something steadier, something rooted, something new.

This blog begins the story of that transition — the courage it took, the sacrifices made, and the dream that guides me now: to create a life here in Tennessee that leads to a home of my own on a few acres of quiet land.

Choosing hope over hardship, and giving myself the chance to build something steadier, something rooted, something new.

What most people don’t see when they think about a move like this is everything that had to happen behind the scenes — especially with my cats. They aren’t just pets to me, they’re my responsibility, and most of them had never left my home after being rescued and fixed. They were island cats, used to one environment, one routine, one safe space.

Getting them here was, without question, one of the hardest parts of this entire move.

I had to send them in two separate groups and just pray that everything went smoothly — that the weather would cooperate in Seattle, that flights wouldn’t be delayed, that they wouldn’t be lost, hurt, or overly traumatized. The first group, my younger ones, had to stay in boarding for four nights. My seniors and special needs cats traveled with me and still had to be boarded overnight.

There’s a certain kind of stress that comes with that… the kind where you don’t fully breathe until every single one of them is accounted for.

When I finally had them all in my new home in Tennessee, that’s when I could exhale. But even then, it wasn’t over. My focus immediately shifted to making sure they were safe here — that they couldn’t get out, that they could adjust, that they felt secure in a place that was completely unfamiliar to them.

At the same time, I was adjusting too.

The weather alone was a shock to my system. I came from Kauai, where I was still wearing shorts, tank tops, and slippahs. I hadn’t worn real winter clothes — socks, shoes, coats, mittens — since I lived in Las Vegas back in 2014. Suddenly, I was in a place where seasons actually mattered, and I had to relearn what that meant in my day-to-day life.

And while Kauai is beautiful — truly beautiful — the reality of living there, especially with multiple pets, was something most people don’t see. Affordable living often meant accepting conditions that weren’t safe or sustainable long-term. To be able to afforde the rent and keep my pets, I had to be willing to live with things like termites, mold, peeling paint, and ongoing maintenance issues that just came with the territory. Being able to find an affordable rental with pets was impossible. I had moved 3 times in 3 years and I just felt like I couldn’t keep stressing over where to live on my budget.

At some point, I had to be honest with myself. Beauty alone isn’t enough if it comes with constant stress and instability. I could try to work 3 jobs, never be at home just to be able to afford basics, or I could relocate to a place where housing, food, utilities, is just more affordable.

Right now, my life looks very different.

It’s simple.

I wake up each day and take care of my cats. I clean my home in the mornings. I sit on the couch with my coffee and watch the squirrels outside. I work on my laptop and focus on rebuilding — paying down debt, catching up on bills, and working toward improving my credit so I can eventually buy a home of my own.

It may not look like much from the outside, but to me, it’s a step toward something steady. Something peaceful. Something that finally feels possible.

Starting over wasn’t planned

Starting over at this stage of life wasn’t something I planned, but it’s something I chose. It hasn’t been easy, and there are still a lot of unknowns ahead of me, but I’ve learned that sometimes you have to step out of what’s familiar to create something better.

My life today may look simple — taking care of my cats, keeping a clean home, working toward stability — but it’s mine, and it’s moving in the right direction. If there’s one thing I would say to anyone thinking about making a big change, it’s this: you don’t have to have everything figured out to begin. You just have to be willing to take the first step and trust that you’ll find your footing along the way.