Empty Nest To Seasonal Work Traveler- Navigating Life Transitions

What does a mother bird feel when she has spent a season preparing a fledgling to fly, only to watch it spread its wings and soar away, leaving behind an empty nest? Do birds feel that mix of pride and aching emptiness that human mothers do?

After years of single motherhood—endless adventures, soggy kisses, muddy handprints on my clothes, homeschooling, cheerleading practice and all the magical chaos that makes motherhood both challenging and rewarding—my little Duck (my name for my only child) finally left the nest. I knew this day would come, and I was excited to see her conquer life on her own terms. Yet after dedicating so much of myself to raising an independent human and supporting my husband’s career, I looked around and realized I didn’t know what my own next steps should be.

A long health battle forced me to re‑examine everything. Survival and recovery made me grateful for the opportunity to live and thrive, but in quiet moments I still daydreamed. I felt there was a life meant for me that I hadn’t yet discovered, and that parts of my soul remained unexplored.

I own a small online business, but I needed to diversify my income. The obvious route—returning to school or an 8‑to‑5 desk job—did not appeal. Having lived through the 2008 recession, I know “stable” careers can vanish overnight. More than that, I couldn’t imagine spending the most beautiful parts of each day inside an office, asking permission to go to the doctor or visit a friend. That isn’t my path, yet I didn’t know another way.

I love so many things. I’m curious and eager to learn, explore and grow in directions I haven’t experienced yet. When I first learned about seasonal cruise ship and yacht jobs, the lifestyle looked exciting—but perhaps more of a party than I wanted. I browsed job listings and imagined what it would be like, but it felt like too drastic a change to seriously consider. Still, the question lingered: what did I want to be when I “grew up”? I’m already a grown‑up in years, which only made the pressure worse.

At the same time, my relationship was faltering. Neither of us was happy, and we were trying to relive a season of life that had already passed. We needed to make changes to survive emotionally. In our forties, we realized we had built something that no longer fit us.

I wish I could tell you my introduction to seasonal work was well‑planned. Instead, it took a family crisis—a boundary pushed too far—to force me to act. In a moment of sadness and panic, desperate for space and reflection, I booked a Workaway trip to Alaska in a single night. I learned about the opportunity, was invited, and said yes—all within hours. Was I crazy? Maybe. I had spent years homeschooling my child and fighting for my health; perhaps I had ignored the simmering issues in my own life. Regardless, I made a choice that pulled me far outside my comfort zone.

Seasonal jobs can feel intimidating, but they’re surprisingly accessible. Many remote or hard‑to‑fill roles come with housing, meals and utilities included (medium.com), and employers often offer free or discounted experiences so that staff can share them with authentic enthusiasm (medium.com). College degrees or extensive experience aren’t always required (medium.com). For someone like me, the idea that seasonal work could fund future adventures and provide a place to land was both practical and liberating.

Being out of my comfort zone is nothing new. I’ve always walked a line between caution and throwing myself into the unknown. This time, discomfort left me no choice but growth. And so begins my journey into the uncertain but enticing world of solo work travel.

Come along with me. Laugh with me. Learn with me. Grow with me. Together we’ll explore seasonal work opportunities across the world and create lives of empowerment for every season.

Welcome to my blog.

Let’s leave the empty nest and get exploring.