• When she was laid off from a community college, Halona Black pivoted to a kitchen job at Whole Foods.
• Her passion for food and health led her to move on to teach cooking and start a health blog.
• She built a freelance writing business and now travels globally to explore health and culture.

Being let go from a job is not always a surprise. Sometimes, there are whispers before the door slams shut, small signs that your time is winding down. That's how it was for me.

In 2010, I was an academic counselor at a community college in Washington, DC. I had also volunteered to develop the tutoring center, believing I was stepping into a dream role. For over a decade, I'd worked in community education as a GED writing teacher, a tech training program manager, and an ESL teacher.

I didn't just help students pick a major — I asked them to connect their education to who they wanted to become in the world. I took my job personally, and I found myself drowning in responsibilities.

The tutoring center had no budget or staff. I was expected to build something from scratch, relying on volunteers on top of my full-time advising load. It wasn't sustainable.

Starting a new life in a new job

Eventually, complaints about the tutoring center's limitations reached leadership. When my one-year contract ended, it wasn't renewed, and I was laid off.

The long hours and low pay had worn me down. I was making $42,000 a year with a master's degree, and I woke up anxious and in tears, dreading Monday mornings. Getting let go gave me the breathing room I desperately needed.

With six months of unemployment benefits and temporary health insurance, I had just enough to survive. I decided to follow a long-held curiosity: food.

I'd always been drawn to Whole Foods

I loved the hot bar, soups, salads, and desserts, which actually looked homemade (because they were).

At this time of my life, the stress of my previous job, the death of my mother, and a failing marriage all contributed to significant weight gain. I decided to get divorced while simultaneously navigating my job situation.

I threw myself headfirst into learning how to heal my body with food. Though I once dreamed of culinary school, I couldn't justify taking out more debt on top of what I already owed for my master's degree. I sought out other ways to satisfy my culinary interests, like completing the ServSafe food handler certification.

I took a leap of faith and applied for a job in the Whole Foods kitchen

I had amassed a wealth of culinary knowledge after years of watching my favorite chefs on the Food Network, YouTube, and PBS. I read cookbooks like novels and took countless in-person cooking classes in raw food preparation, fruit pie baking, and making handmade pasta. Whole Foods took a chance on me, and I fell in love with being in a professional kitchen.

I was hired as a cook for $12 an hour. The drop in pay required me to make some adjustments in my lifestyle. I moved from a one-bedroom apartment into a single rented room in a house that was shared with five other adults. I sold my car, couch, and all my other worldly belongings. I had no real plan — I was just excited about the possibility of engaging an interest I had held for years.

I learned how to filet a 30-inch salmon, perfectly grill a steak with crosshatch marks, properly arrange the deli salad display for visual appeal, and properly scrub down every greasy kitchen surface each night. My muscles ached in ways my old desk job never asked of me, but this work was creative, and I felt alive.

Finding my creative rhythm

I stayed at Whole Foods for six months. Food service moves fast, and I learned I wasn't built for that pace.

But something had awakened in me. I started teaching healthy cooking classes in the Whole Foods community education program. I watched people recreate those recipes at home and come back surprised by their own success. That joy sparked my writing.

I began documenting recipes on my health blog and pitching food stories to small publications. I worked for a year in an after-school program teaching kids to cook healthy meals while learning STEM. I noticed how the kids were excited to talk about their country of origin and the foods they made with their mom at home that were similar to what we had prepared in class.

After being dismissed from my job at the community college, I felt like a failure. I discovered that talking about food, culture, and science fed my soul in ways that teaching did not.

Transitioning to a new life abroad

I knew that the after-school program would only last for one year, so I looked for an opportunity that would allow me to build a career in writing, food, and health.

In 2013, I took another leap of faith and moved to Orlando with my fledgling freelance writer business, starting with food and then branching into writing for wellness brands and the tech industry. Over the course of five years, I built a foundation for a freelance business I could take anywhere in the world.

I wrote blog posts, ebooks, white papers, customer case studies, and more. After watching hours of YouTube videos of other freelance writers who moved to Southeast Asia, I decided to do the same.

I booked a one-way ticket from Florida to Thailand. I was drawn to Thailand for its affordable living and access to traditional healers who could support my weight loss journey. While there, I lost 60 pounds.

Since 2018, I've lived in 10 countries in Asia, Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and now Mexico. I continue to explore what it means to sustain vibrant health while building a business that blends freelance writing with author coaching.

I now live in Playa del Carmen

I'm deepening my knowledge of healing herbs, local chile varieties, and the region's rich culinary traditions. In January 2025, I ran my first half-marathon, a milestone that reflects just how far I've come in my health journey.

Looking back, I realize I wasted too much time feeling like a failure after losing my job in higher education. I now see the experience very differently. It wasn't a failure so much as a freeing of my soul.

Most people never stop to ask if what they're doing still fits who they are and what they want to experience as they get older. I was given that opportunity, and it changed the trajectory of my life.

• I'm a digital nomad and met my partner in Argentina two years ago.
• We talked daily for the next eight months, and I decided to return to Argentina in 2024.
• We fell in love and are building a life together in an unconventional way, but it works for us.

When I started traveling full-time almost four years ago, I promised myself I'd go on dates, but I also knew that a long-term relationship was out of the question.

As a digital nomad and freelance writer, I get the unique opportunity to travel all over the world and write about my experiences. It's truly a dream job, but sacrifices and tradeoffs must always be made — like relationships.

How could I develop a meaningful connection if I only spend one or two months in a city at a time? Even if I did find someone I wanted to pursue a future with, I knew I was unwilling to change my lifestyle. Full-time travel is a dream that I can't give up.

All of that changed when I met my partner.

I found love unexpectedly in Argentina

I spent the first few months of 2023 in Argentina, one of my favorite countries in the world.

In February, I received a message on Grindr, which is notoriously known as a gay hookup app with a low success rate for relationships. Still, I hoped for something more, and I figured if I was on the app, there must also be a couple of other people like me out there.

Over the next few days, I started chatting with this person, who introduced himself as Lauti. He asked me out on a date, but unfortunately, I was leaving Buenos Aires to go to a different city in Argentina the following morning. I told him I'd be back in six weeks, and we decided to meet then.

The day after I flew back to Buenos Aires, we went on our first date, and something clicked. For the next three weeks, we embarked on a whirlwind romance and were virtually inseparable.

Then, I packed up and flew to Mexico, and even though we liked each other, I knew nothing could realistically come from it. We decided to take things one day at a time and not put a label on anything — just see what happened while I was traveling.

Our relationship blossomed as I continued to travel

As the days went on, the texting and phone calls continued. After Mexico, I flew to Europe for the summer, and even with five or six hour time differences, we found ourselves prioritizing each other and making space for video call dates, life updates, and deeper conversations. Despite the distance, things got more serious month after month, and I realized I was essentially in a long-distance relationship.

So, I planned my return to Argentina for January 2024 — eight months after I left. We finally put a label on what we both felt, and a few weeks later, he told me he loved me for the first time. We faced yet another goodbye in April when I left for Peru. Luckily, this period of long-distance was short since he came to visit a month later for his birthday in May.

Then, we went seven months without seeing each other while I was off exploring Europe, Asia, and Australia. He came to Colombia in December 2024 for our first holiday season together, which was every bit as magical as we hoped it would be. I returned to Argentina at the end of January this year, and we've lived together for the past four months.

Luckily, our time apart seems to be getting shorter each year. I'll leave Argentina in a few weeks, and we will be apart for just three months.

Navigating an unconventional relationship

Each long-distance period has its challenges. During the first stint, we were still getting to know each other, which made communication tricky. The second time, we were much better at communicating, but it was more challenging in its own way. I often don't know where I'll live in a few months' time, so it's impossible to know when we will be together again.

Even so, we're embracing the challenges of a long-distance relationship. How do we prioritize seeing each other? How do we balance two different cultures? How can we accomplish our own goals while still growing together? These questions don't have simple answers, and they are constantly evolving.

Some aspects of our relationship progressed quickly, while others have been harder to nurture due to my lifestyle. However, this has become our normal, making us appreciate our time together so much more. In our time apart, we still prioritize each other, but also spend time planning our future and growing individually.

I had an idea of what a relationship was supposed to be, and I thought that a nomadic lifestyle would be antithetical to that ideal. I've realized there isn't a perfect relationship, and I can accomplish two things simultaneously: a loving relationship and an unwavering desire to see every corner of the world. I don't have to sacrifice one to achieve the other, but I must be intentional with my time.

• Last year, Sarah Khan, 33, and her husband moved out and became digital nomads.
• So far, they've worked from Bali, Rome, Tuscany, Bangkok, Phuket, and Alicante.
• Bali has been her favorite place to work.

The Mediterranean sparkles to my left as I type from a foldable desk on the terrace of a cozy home in a quiet coastal town in Spain. Rolling green hills stretch to my right, framing the space that will be home for the next three months, until we pack up and move again.

It's been 12 months since my husband and I embarked on a nomadic life. We sold everything, ended our four-year apartment lease in Singapore, and boarded a one-way flight to Bali. Since then, we've worked from Bali, Rome, Tuscany, Bangkok, Phuket, and now the coast of Alicante in Spain.

Friends and fellow travelers often ask, "Where's your favorite place to work?" I'm sometimes hesitant to answer because it's so subjective. Choosing a base as a nomad involves a different set of criteria than picking a vacation spot. For me, factors like community, longer-stay visas, reliable WiFi, easy access to nature, and a vibrant wellness scene are at the top of the checklist.

Still, if I had to choose, the place that stands out— and one I'd happily return to — is Bali.

I felt at home

Bali was my first port of call as a digital nomad, and I spent a happy four months working and living there.

Despite internet discourse about how "overrun" parts of the island have become, it remains my favourite place to work remotely to this day. Perhaps I'm biased — with my Indonesian roots and years of vacationing there, I feel instantly at home.

My husband and I chose Berawa as our base, a laidback neighbourhood just outside the buzz of Canggu. Located on Bali's southern coast, Canggu has transformed from a sleepy surf village into the island's hippest enclave, packed with trendy cafés and black sand beaches that draw yogis and surfers in equal measure.

This was my first time staying in Berawa, and it turned out to be the ideal spot for an extended stay. You get proximity to the action of Canggu without actually living in the thick of it. My two-bedroom villa, tucked down a quiet lane off a main road, placed me less than 10 minutes from central Canggu.

Bali's cost of living has crept up in recent years, but it still offered value for our longer stay. Our villa rent was $1,800 a month, which included a pool, fast WiFi, and weekly cleaning — less than half of what I'd paid for my apartment in Singapore.

A remote worker's dream setup

Bali was an easy place to get started on my nomad life. The island is exceptionally well-equipped for long stays: the WiFi is generally reliable, there are plenty of supermarkets and pharmacies available for daily necessities, and ride-hailing apps are affordable and convenient.

After a year on the road, I've come to appreciate how rare this combination is.

The island also boasts one of the best remote work ecosystems I've experienced, from coworking spaces like Outpost and BWork to laptop-friendly cafés. I rotated through a few favourites: the workspace upstairs at Woods, Zin Cafe, and Lighthouse, a coworking café with beautiful rice field views and its own on-site podcast and video studio.

It's also easy to stay active and healthy in Bali. Gyms, yoga studios, and affordable massages are aplenty, especially around Berawa. And food options are great: from warungs serving fragrant local dishes to health-forward cafés and world-class restaurants.

When work felt overwhelming and I needed a break, I could hop on a scooter and be at the beach in minutes. There were also many options for weekend escapes: We managed trips to the pristine Nusa Lembongan and Ceningan islands, a day trip to serene Sidemen, and explored the east coast's slower-paced beach towns like Amed and Candidasa.

These experiences revealed a quieter, more soulful side of Bali — one I'd missed on past short trips.

The downsides

Of course, no place is perfect. Traffic in Canggu can be chaotic, and the island's infrastructure is still catching up with its tourism growth. There's also a digital nomad community that, at times, can feel like a bubble and disconnected from authentic local life.

But once you find your rhythm and favourite nooks, it's easy to tune out the noise and settle into Bali's slower, softer pace.

I made it a point to skip the touristy spots, stay just outside the main areas, and design my life and routine around the kind of experience I wanted.

A year into nomadic living, I've felt uprooted, disoriented, and occasionally exhausted. But in Bali, I found a version of myself I liked: Focused, centered, and rested.