When Jake asked me to move to Alaska to save money and start our future, I didn’t hesitate. We planned everything—left jobs, packed bags, said our goodbyes. But when I came back early from a girls’ weekend, I walked into my house to find all my boxes stacked by the door… and his new girlfriend…
When Jake asked me to move to Alaska to save money and start our future, I didn’t hesitate. We planned everything—left jobs, packed bags, said our goodbyes. But when I came back early from a girls’ weekend, I walked into my house to find all my boxes stacked by the door… and his new girlfriend walking out of the bathroom. He wasn’t coming. He never planned to.
I left that night with nothing but a weekend bag and a broken heart. On the plane to Alaska the next morning, I cried for what I thought I lost—but also for what I knew I was about to reclaim: my independence, my strength, my life. My mom welcomed me with open arms and a quiet kitchen. She didn’t ask questions. She just handed me coffee and said, “Let’s get to work.”
And we did. I got a job on a fishing boat, made more money than I ever had, and built a routine that made me feel alive again. Jake? My friends kicked him and his girl out of my house a week later. I didn’t need revenge. I had peace. I had Alaska. I had me.
Two years later, I have a house in the mountains, a partner who shows up every day, and a life I built on my own terms. Jake said Alaska wasn’t for him. He was right—it was for me. And it gave me back everything I forgot I deserved.
