travel, food and a gypsy soul.
Whenever I travel, I make a promise to myself that I will write, I will keep track, I will remember. But as soon as I step foot off the plane I totally lose myself in wanderlust and just want to enjoy every moment as they come. Four days in Berlin, and no idea where to start.
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We didn’t know it at the time, but this trip to the Dominican Republic would be the beginning of a tradition — one that would root itself deep in our sisterhood, growing more meaningful with each destination we’d wander to next.
When we arrived at the resort, I remember them telling us, the entire place is all-inclusive, but for an additional $104, you can be placed on the ‘Adults Only’ side, which means you’ll have your own pool with no children, enhanced wifi, and a bungalow on the beach. Is that even a question? This was probably the first time in my life, that I felt like I didn’t belong at the kiddy pool. I was 24, working at Ferrari, and collecting my own paychecks for the first time in my life. It was a big moment for me.
There’s something sacred about traveling with your sister. You don’t have to explain yourself — you just are. That’s exactly the energy we were bringing to the Dominican Republic: no plans, no pressure, just presence.
We checked in, got settled, and it was everything we’d hoped for. Peaceful mornings, quiet pools, and no loud Marco Polo games interrupting our afternoon naps. Just ocean breezes, good books, and room service we didn’t have to share. The highlight for me was the man with the machete that cut us fresh coconuts from the tree every day.
The water — oh, the water — it shimmered like glass, impossibly blue and endlessly clear. We must’ve said “look how clear it is!” at least a hundred times. But every time we dipped in, it still stunned us.
We floated together in the calm sea, giggling as tropical fish darted between our toes. Bright pops of color flashed beneath us like confetti — a reminder that joy is often quiet, and beauty lives just below the surface.
At the time, we didn’t call it a “sissy trip.” We just called it a vacation. But looking back now, it was the very first of many — the beginning of an unspoken promise that no matter what stage of life we’re in, we’ll always make time to slip away and be just “us.”
That trip taught us something: it’s not the destination that makes a vacation unforgettable — it’s the company. And when that company is your sister, your built-in best friend, everything else — the sunsets, the seafood, the soft towels — is just a beautiful bonus.
Here are a few tips from two seasoned sissy travelers:
Choose adults-only if you want quiet connection time.
Pack light, emotionally and physically — you’re with someone who already knows your baggage.
Schedule nothing and see where the days take you.
Let the ocean hold your stories. You’ll write new ones as you go.
Here’s to the first trip.
And the next one.
And all the sister-filled adventures still to come.
🌴💛