The Authentic Motivator

Let’s rewind to Sunday, May 25th — the day we were finally jetting off to Punta de Mita for a week-long beach retreat. Honestly, I desperately needed this getaway. If you’ve been following my stories, you already know I was running on fumes — the definition of burnt-out. But hey, nothing like a tropical escape to reboot your soul, right?

Now, picture this: the night before our flight, Duke and I stayed up like two excited kids on Christmas Eve. Well, maybe I was more like a kid on Christmas morning, bouncing with anticipation. Duke? He was just as hyped, probably imagining all the sun, surf, and margaritas. But let’s be real — staying up late to pack is a tradition in our house.

And of course, it wasn’t long before we got into one of our classic Duke and Mekia debates. If you’ve never experienced it, let me tell you: our disagreements are fueled by passion, stubbornness, and a dash of leadership qualities we both secretly take pride in. They usually end with hugs and laughter, so no worries — love always wins.

That night, I was still recovering from a nasty bug, feeling a little fragile. I assumed we’d check in two big suitcases for our beach trip — standard, right? Not Duke. He insisted we take only one large bag and two carry-ons. I blinked. “What? I thought we always check in two large suitcases!” I grumbled. Turns out, we typically check in one large suitcase and two carry-ons. Only when we travel during the winter season do we check in two large suitcases.

I was annoyed, partly because I’d paid $80 for two checked bags, and partly because I was now sharing space. So, I started removing stuff from my suitcase, already feeling the stress creeping in.

Later, we managed to grab some Chipotle — the only meal of the day — and then… we went to bed.

The next morning, I was on it. I timed everything to the minute, planning with military precision. Duke, on the other hand, hates my meticulous schedules. He says I add 30-45 minutes to every trip just to be “safe,” which usually results in us waiting at the airport. But this time? I was tired, still fighting off my sickness, so I decided to go with the flow. Big mistake.

We finally arrived at the airport — only to find out the parking lot was closed off to everyone without reservations. Of course, I had reservations because I am the planner. We finally found a spot after what felt like an hour of circling, grabbed our luggage, and headed for the elevator.

I pressed level 3, confident that would take us to check-in. Duke? He pressed 1 and said, “Mekia, it’s one, not three.” Usually, I’d argue, but I was exhausted. I shrugged and let him see for himself — sure enough, level 1 was wrong. We had to wait for the elevator to go back up to level 3.

And that tiny delay? It was a game-changer. By the time we checked in, I got a notification — we’d missed the window to check our luggage. Wait, what? I’ve never experienced this before. We literally missed it by a minute!

I went to customer service, and the lady calmly said we’d have to rebook for the next flight — which was the next day. My brain froze, and suddenly, tears threatened to spill. I felt that helpless, overwhelmed wave creeping in. I was about to lose it!

Duke, ever the hero, switched into full-on operation mode. “Mekia,” he said, “we’re not missing this flight. We’ll leave the big luggage behind.” I blinked in disbelief. He then added softly, “Please don’t cry — not in the middle of the airport.”

Quick as a flash, we emptied our large suitcase into the car, grabbing only what we could carry. We dashed through security thanks to TSA PreCheck and Clear — smooth sailing, but my nerves? Still jumping.

And just like that, despite the chaos, we were on our way — a little frazzled, a lot exhausted, but ready to finally breathe in that ocean air.

Because sometimes, in the wild ride of travel, it’s not about the perfect plan. It’s about holding onto each other, laughing at the chaos, and rolling with whatever the adventure throws at you.

And Punta de Mita? Well, it was waiting for us — sun, surf, and all the stories we’d be telling for years.