in my eat, pray, love era ;)

Redefining what it means to nourish, connect, and build a life that feels like mine

It feels like I’ve been waiting for this day forever: the official start of my international travels!!

I’m writing to you from London, where I’ll be spending the next couple of weeks soaking it all in. I studied abroad here back in 2017 and completely fell in love with the city, so being back feels both nostalgic and exciting. I have no agenda whatsoever, and I kind of love that.

When I started telling people I quit my job to travel the world, the first thing I often heard was, “Oh, you’re doing an Eat, Pray, Love thing?” And honestly? That reaction used to irritate me. It felt like they were making assumptions—that I was lost, that I was soul-searching, that I needed to go find myself in some dramatic way. I’d catch myself defending the decision, wanting to clarify: No, no, this isn’t a breakdown, it’s a choice. It’s something totally different.

But lately, I’ve softened a bit toward that comparison. Once I took time to really set intentions for this trip, I realized… maybe it’s not so different after all. Maybe most of us are on some version of the same journey. Trying to feel more connected, more alive, more ourselves. And maybe the specifics don’t matter as much as the intention behind it.

So here it is: my version of Eat, Pray, Love. Not about escaping or fixing anything, but about coming home to myself. One choice, one place, one moment at a time.

Eat —> Nourish

Now, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not a foodie. Fine dining is kind of lost on me—though fun fact, I did try caviar for the first time recently (and liked it?!). I’ve always been the type of person who could happily eat the same meal every day. Growing up, the Ball household basically survived on pasta with butter.

So no, I’m not planning to eat my way through Europe. But what I am focused on is nourishment: nourishing my body, my mind, and my energy. I started working with a personal trainer last October, and for the first time in my life, I really began to really love my body. Not just how it looked (although, sure, the muscle tone didn’t hurt), but how it felt—strong, capable, pain-free. Moving through the world with confidence and without discomfort is something I didn’t realize I was missing until I finally had it.

That’s something I want to carry with me into this next chapter. Morning runs through Hyde Park. Long walks with no real destination. Daily movement and stretching, not to change my body, but to honor it. I also want to eat in a way that fuels and sustains me, not restrictively, but intentionally. After a few weeks of U.S. travel, where eating out and drinking were done in excess, I’m ready to slow down and reconnect with what feels good.

Part of that reconnection includes taking a pause from alcohol. Call it a cleanse, a reset, or just a quiet boundary. I want to be clear-minded, deeply present, and authentic on this trip, and I’ve learned that alcohol can sometimes dull those edges for me. So I’m pressing pause and seeing what it feels like to show up fully sober and fully me.

And nourishment goes beyond the physical. It’s mental too. Since quitting my job, I’ve abstained from watching any TV. And oddly, I don’t miss it. My downtime has shifted into things that truly feed me: books, journaling, deep conversations, creative sparks. I want to carry that forward, making space every day for habits and rituals that support my mental clarity and emotional well-being.

This chapter is all about feeling good in my body and clear in my mind. About feeding myself in every sense of the word. I want to leave this journey feeling better—lighter, stronger, more awake—than I ever have before.

Pray —> Connect

Oddly enough, my first Airbnb is connected to a church ;)

I’ve never really resonated with traditional religion (despite attending Catholic school K-12), and for a long time I thought that meant spirituality wasn’t for me. But over the past few years, I’ve realized that connection—to something greater, to the present moment, to myself—is deeply spiritual. And this trip feels like an opportunity to lean all the way into that.

I’m talking about the kind of spirituality that lives in the quiet moments: the sun hitting your face just right on a morning walk, the stillness of a solo cup of coffee, the goosebumps when a stranger says something that feels kismet. I want to slow down enough to notice those moments. I want to be present enough to feel them.

So this chapter is about reconnecting. With my intuition. With the version of me who doesn’t rush. With the curiosity and awe I used to feel so naturally as a kid. I’m bringing my journal with me everywhere. I plan to spend a lot more time meditating, even if it’s just five minutes in the morning.

There’s something sacred in being alone, especially in a new place. It’s like your senses turn up a little louder. You notice the smell of the bakery on the corner, the way your feet sound on cobblestone, the accent in the way someone says “sorry.” This trip isn’t about praying to a god, per se, but it is about listening. It’s about paying attention. It’s about remembering that I am always supported, always guided, even when I don’t know exactly where I’m going.

Love —> Love Myself

One of the most radical acts of self-love I’ve learned lately is allowing myself to want what I want. Not what’s reasonable, not what’s impressive, not what makes sense on paper. Just what I actually want. And this trip is a massive declaration of that.

It’s easy to get caught up in the life you’re “supposed” to build—career milestones, financial goals, settling down by a certain age. But what happens when you let all that go for a second? What if you let your life feel like yours? That’s the energy I’m stepping into.

I want to feel excited when I wake up in the morning. I want to be around people who inspire me. I want to write more, share more, and stop waiting for the “right” time to chase the ideas that light me up. I don’t want to settle for a life that feels fine. I want a life that feels holy shit, I get to do this?

And I know that starts with me. With what I choose to prioritize, who I spend time with, how I talk to myself. That’s why I’m choosing to travel slow. To not pack my schedule just to “make the most” of a place. Because making the most of it, for me, means giving myself space to actually enjoy it. To create, to dream, to listen to myself again.

Nourish, Connect, Love Myself

If there’s one thing I’ve learned already, it’s that this journey isn’t really about the places I go—it’s about how I choose to be while I’m there. How present I can stay. How honest I can be with myself. How much room I’m willing to make for growth, quiet, surprise, and joy.

This trip isn’t an escape, and it’s not a vacation. It’s an entirely new way of living. One where I trust myself more. Where I build a life that feels delicious to wake up to. Where I let things be simple, soft, slow, sacred.

It isn’t about finding myself. I’m already here. What I am trying to do is strip away anything that’s been making me forget. I’m focused on building something. A way of living that reflects who I am becoming, one aligned, full-body-yes decision at a time.

So here’s to the next few months. To feeling good in my body. To tuning in instead of numbing out. To saying yes to the things that light me up and no to the things that don’t. To becoming the most authentic me.

I don’t know exactly where this path leads, but for the first time in a long time, I trust the direction.

walk boldly,

Caroline