I was born in Wilton, California—a little landlocked farm town in the heart of the California Valley. The Pacific Ocean was a three-hour drive away, with towering waves and icy waters. One day, when I was about six, my little brother Austin was playing in the surf. A massive wave nearly swept him away, and I ran to grab him by the handle of his life vest, dragging him to safety. My mom rushed over, thanking me, convinced I had saved his life.  In that moment I learned to fear the power of the sea.

My dad, who was just 23 when I was born was quite the trickster, he built a two-acre lake behind our tiny home. He warned me that alligators lived in that pond, ensuring I’d never venture too close, concerned that I might drown and trying to protect me. Between that and my experience with Austin, I developed a lifelong fear of water. Given that history, my friends and family were shocked when, in 2014, I sold everything I owned and set sail around the world with my two young children.

Somewhere along the way, I developed an obsession with overcoming my fears.

My mother always encouraged me to marry well, which to her meant marrying someone with money, and so I did. When I was 21, I met Bianca’s father, James Berghuis, a 33-year-old businessman who owned a mortgage company in Sacramento. We dated for a few years and I had Bianca at 24 years old. But when Bianca was just a few months old, James was indicted on nine felony counts of fraud for a Ponzi scheme similar to what Bernie Madoff did. The judge threw the book at it as it were.

One day, I found myself holding a five-month-old baby with 86 cents in my pocket. I was too embarrassed to tell my family that the relationship had been abusive all along. But in that hardship, I discovered a profound truth—money does not buy happiness. Happiness comes from within, and no matter the circumstances, we always have the power to shape our future. I moved back in with my mom at 25 years old and started my photography career. After a brief  modeling career, I fell in love with being behind the camera and opened a portrait studio.

James was ultimately sentenced to 17 years in federal prison.

His incarceration gave me freedom and fresh start, I moved to Texas for a new beginning.   

In 2013, Blake was about two and Bianca four. I packed up and moved to Austin, Texas. That’s where I met Rob, who introduced me to the idea of living on a boat. Rob, a history buff, was fascinated by Spanish galleons lost to storms. With his military pension funding our dream, he convinced me to get my scuba license and start studying charts with him. We became scuba-certified, studied weather patterns, and embarked on our grand adventure. We had zero experience, just a hope, a dream, and a prayer.

By 2014, I had sold nearly everything, packed up my kids, and set sail for the first time. We navigated from Texas to Florida and then the Bahamas, fueled by our passion for discovery and the bug for treasure hunting.

In the summer of 2014, we moved onto a 33.7-foot Cruisers Yacht, dropped it into the Gulf of Mexico, and began our journey from Kemah, Texas, towards Florida. The plan? Treasure hunting in the Bahamas.

A year into boating, I fell in love with sailing. The idea of crossing oceans powered only by the wind fascinated me. So, we bought our first sailboat—a 1994 Beneteau 405, named Miss Lone Star. We flew from Florida to Maine, purchased her from a maritime institute for $70,000, and sailed her back down the East Coast.

The transition to sailing wasn’t just about adventure—it was about survival for Rob. Rob struggled with PTSD, but what I didn’t know was that he had a family history of schizophrenia and was on medication. In the end, he tragically took his own life. I was faced with a life-altering decision: give up or keep going. With the support of my family, I chose to keep sailing.

To gain experience, I bought a boat for one dollar—a small vessel I lovingly called Little Miss. As I worked towards my USCG captain’s license, I met a fellow sailor in Puerto Rico and explored South Africa, a gift in itself. That relationship was turbulent, and while I won’t go into details, I later discovered that he had a deeply troubling past, and there is currently an ongoing investigation against him involving minors.

By 2019, I found love again with Searle. I bought Houdini, a 1977 Formosa 51, and spent a year and a half rebuilding her from the ground up with Searle.

We dropped Houdini into the water in Anacortes, Washington, and began sailing south. Searle and I shared three incredible years together, sailing and growing. By 2021, we had completed a full refit of Houdini, including brand-new rigging and spars. My dream of sailing the world on a classic pirate ship had come true.

But in 2022, James was released from prison. Within hours of his release, he called me, demanding custody of Bianca. It felt like my world was crumbling. Instead of letting fear consume me, I embarked on a journey of deep self-discovery. I traveled to Peru, where I spent time in the jungle with indigenous people in Iquitos, drinking ayahuasca. This experience was life-altering. It reinforced what I had always believed—happiness is within, and our thoughts shape our reality.

That year was incredibly difficult for me. I stopped posting regularly on YouTube and focused on staying positive amidst immense stress. James was my greatest fear come to life, but Bianca, wise beyond her years, took matters into her own hands. She asked the judge to close the custody case and allow her to live her life undisturbed. The judge agreed, and just like that, we were free to continue sailing and living life on our terms.

The ultimate vision has always been freedom and self. discovery. Unfortunately, through that stressful time, my relationship with Searle crumbled. I chose not to speak about it publicly because it was a private matter—one that required deep reflection. But from that experience, I learned an invaluable lesson: Stay positive. Stay true to ourselves.  Stay strong. What is meant for you will always come.

In the end, Searle and I found our way back to friendship. Today, he sails as a captain through the Caribbean and beyond, charting his own course. I am truly happy for him. While there is a quiet sadness in how things ended, we both agree that our journey together was meaningful. We shared something special, and in the end, we are both better for having known each other.

Over the past decade, I’ve sailed all over the world—from South Africa and the Mediterranean, the U.S. East and West Coasts, Central and South America, the Caribbean, and beyond. The journey has been nothing short of magical.

Blake and Bianca are teenagers now and enjoying high school. Through all of life’s unexpected twists and turns, I missed so much of their growing up. But now, I feel like I have a fresh lease on life and deep wisdom to share—not only with my young daughter, Violet, but also with you all.

If you told me years ago that I’d be writing this from a 51-foot sailboat in the Bay of Banderas, with my beautiful baby in my lap, I wouldn’t have believed you. But deep down, this was always the plan. The journey was the destination. And what a wild, beautiful journey it has been.

There’s been plenty of discussion about my romantic relationships online, and while some of it has stung, I wouldn’t change my journey for anything. I may not have always gotten it right, but that’s the beauty of life—I believe in love, in romance, and in truly living. To me, setbacks aren’t reasons to throw up our hands and blame fate. Instead, they’re opportunities to reflect, take responsibility, and make bold changes. Owning our choices and embracing growth is the true formula for a fulfilling, extraordinary life—one filled with joy, resilience, and all things good and true.

While sailing in Mexico, I met Esteban. Our connection was instant, and together, we sailed from Puerto Vallarta to Central America. In Costa Rica, we welcomed our beautiful daughter, Violet. Now, we’re back in Bahía de Banderas, Puerto Vallarta, deciding where our next great voyage will take us.

Life has a way of delivering our deepest desires in the most unexpected ways. Trust that it will come, even if the path is not the one you imagined.