You may have noticed my absence from social media lately. The reason is simple: I was immersed in travel, but not in the typical “gap year” way. I was touring the United States with my partner’s daughter Annie, who’s taking a gap year before starting college. As we discussed what her year might look like—a bridge between high school hallways and the life of a college campus—we joked about how many times I’ve crossed the country (ten, to be exact). Eventually, the joke turned into a plan: “Heck yes… let’s do it!” This month, I want to explore the idea that our greatest gift to the next generation may be as simple as our presence. In fact, it is our biggest duty.
If there was one thing I always knew growing up, it was that I would move west after college. While attending the University of Vermont, I took my first cross-country trip with friends as they looked for a place to settle. I made the journey again after graduation ahead of settling in Park City, UT. The experience was nothing short of life-changing. The best description I’ve heard comes from Annie’s friend Mimi, who said, “Once you see the West, you can’t unsee it.” As a native Vermonter, I felt those words deeply. Life feels bigger with each state you cross; opportunities seem as vast as the night sky.
So off we went. I rented a van (having sold my Sprinter this past winter), and we started our journey in Vermont after I drove it from New Jersey. We hopscotched through Niagara Falls, Canada, Michigan, Indiana, South Dakota, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Utah, Nevada, California, and finally Oregon. Remarkably, this route almost mirrored my first cross-country adventure from the early '90s—minus paper maps, plus smartphones, and, this time, with one 53-year-old and one 18-year-old on a shared, epic adventure.
Each friend we visited had a similar reaction: “This is amazing that you’re doing this.” The trip was expensive, took me away from my coaching and consulting work for two and a half weeks, I missed Kev and Blue, and the route covered mostly familiar ground, with a few exceptions. So why did I do it? Why take this much time for a journey I’ve already done countless times? To me, the answer was simple.
Above all, when we began our relationship, we mutually agreed that Annie and her sister Elizah held the utmost importance in our lives. As we navigated our journey together, I, at the age of 53, have encountered a plethora of love and heartbreak, victories and struggles. My life has been filled with blessings, intertwined with life's inevitable hardships. Despite not having biological children of my own, I am fortunate to have ten nieces and nephews, along with two young women whom I regard as my daughters through our bond. Although I once grieved the absence of my own offspring, I am grateful for these exceptional young individuals who have imparted as much wisdom to me as I have shared with them. The decision to embark on this grand adventure was met with a resounding and unwavering YES.
Recently, however, I’ve felt the weight of a larger societal issue that struck a chord in me. A certain presidential candidate has used rhetoric to suggest that women’s worth is diminished if they don’t give birth, and I couldn’t help but feel both hurt and angered. This view undermines the value of women like me—professional women with rich life experiences, eager to contribute. This certainly isn’t meant to be a political post, but with movements like Project 2025 rising on the far-right platform, it’s hard not to notice the threat to access to reproductive healthcare and the right to choose our lives. Only 50 years ago, women gained the right to have their own credit cards. We’ve had only about 60 years of access to birth control, equal pay, and safer workplaces. For context, there’s been no equivalent for men in the battle for their simple human rights in the almost 250-year history of the United States. While I don’t like the word "war," the recent reversal of Roe v. Wade felt like a regression to an era when women were not seen as fully human but as property. I’m not interested in testing how far this will go.
As an aunt and bonus human to six nieces and two young women, I feel it’s my duty to support their right to live freely, to fight for what they believe in, love who they want, and speak their truths. I’ve also been incredibly fortunate to live a life filled with adventure, travel, and opportunity in a male-dominated field. My mother, who never once told me I couldn’t do something, modeled this strength. She was the first female Director of Finance at the University of Vermont’s Medical School, a single mother of three on a farm making money making sheep skinned clothes and started as a secretary and climbed her way up to provide for us. After remarrying she drove 90 minutes each way to give us access to a free education at UVM. Her perseverance showed me that even when the odds seem insurmountable, we can overcome.
It certainly feels at times that the odds may be stacked against women, and systemic support for us is lacking. We have heard over the last few weeks in this political season that one candidate must be “flawless” the other gets to be “lawless” (we will certainly talk about his double standard in stories to come). But as a coach for my clients, I work to focus on empowering my clients to control their own narrative versus listening to the noise that surrounds them. I often ask, “What kind of life do you want to live?” or “What are your biggest dreams?” and “What will it take to reach your goals?” If young girls aren’t exposed to possibilities, they can’t answer those questions. Because I was exposed to a world of opportunities and had models of women working hard to achieve those goals, I now feel responsible for passing that on. This guiding gift doesn’t come through emails, texts, or online links; it’s shared through simple presence, time together, conversations, and access to a world of possibilities.
In conclusion, it was an easy and significant choice to share my experiences and the sense of empowerment that arises from creating your own path with Annie, an 18-year-old young woman whom I view as a daughter. I was simply her guide on our adventure, demonstrating and modeling safe ways to grow and experience life. Regardless of the outcome of the upcoming election, I believe it is all our responsibility to be the mentors and models we had—or wished we’d had—as we transitioned into adulthood. You just never know: the presence of a young mind and soul may, in turn, be the gift that we need as well. For me, it was exactly the birthday present this 53-year-old needed.
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