I was 26, working in marketing. I didn't like my job, but I couldn't seem to change anything about my life. There was never any time — barely any days off, and I honestly can't even remember the last time I took a vacation.
Then strange little things started happening, things I didn't pay much attention to at first. I think it started when a printer delivered the wrong order to my office — instead of the pizza parlor brochures I'd requested, I got a stack of hotel brochures for the Dominican Republic. I laughed it off: "Oh, my sister will want these — she and her friends are planning a trip there this fall." A little while later, someone randomly handed me a pocket calendar with the Dominican Republic on the cover. Then my favorite blogger posted about the Dominican Republic. And I thought: well, if I ever do take a vacation, at least I know where I'm going.
Then my sister, while booking a flight to Punta Cana for herself, somehow entered my name instead of hers. She swears she typed her own. Maybe autofill kicked in somewhere, or maybe she just made a mistake — who knows. Either way, the ticket was in my name. And something clicked. I told her not to bother changing it, just buy herself another one. I paid her back for my ticket and went to my boss to say I needed time off — I just couldn't take it anymore. They didn't want to let me go, even threatened to fire me (though they never did).
So I flew out with my sister, and we all checked into the same hotel. That very evening, I met the man who is now my husband. I'm convinced those were signs from fate, nudging me toward him so we could find each other. And I'm so grateful I followed them.