Early Exit EXPLORER

This week was interesting, to say the least. Let’s start with New Year’s Eve. Anyone who has social media has seen the videos—the fireworks on the beach, the massive celebrations, and everyone dressed in white. Well, I was there to see it all in person.

I was originally supposed to be on the beach, but for safety reasons, I decided to go to a hotel directly across from it instead. And yes, I wore white. Apparently, it’s a real tradition—everyone wears white whether you’re watching the fireworks on the beach or not. Luckily, I had enough time to get everything together, so I was fully prepared for the night.

The party itself was very interesting and honestly humbling. I was surrounded by a few friends I had met there, but I was also around a lot of people I didn’t know—and they were all very wealthy. Suddenly, I felt judged. I caught people staring at me with questioning looks, almost as if they were wondering, “How did you get in here?”

It shocked me because in my own little world, I feel like I’m doing okay. But compared to them, I felt like nothing. It humbled me and reminded me of an important truth: no matter how well you think you’re doing, there will always be someone doing better. That realization grounded me in a way I didn’t expect.

Despite that, seeing the fireworks, the crowd, and the energy of the night was unforgettable. It was truly an experience that everyone should be a part of at least once in their lifetime.

Later in the week, I made a promise to myself that I would finally see the Christ the Redeemer statue—one of the wonders of the world. And I did. But what I didn’t realize was that before seeing it, I would have to hike to get there… four miles.

I had no idea it was that long. I didn’t even find out until someone casually mentioned it halfway through the hike. Internally, I wanted to cry—but I kept going. The hike was long, steep, and straight up the mountain. As if that wasn’t enough, it started raining, and the humidity made everything even harder.

Four miles later, with several stops just to catch my breath, I finally made it. Standing there, face to face with the Christ statue, I felt something deep inside me. Seeing it up close made me genuinely happy—because my 16-year-old self would have never believed this life was possible.

Yet here I am, turning the impossible into reality. The entire experience was exhausting, emotional, humbling, and thrilling all at once—and one I’ll never forget.