We sold everything at 55 years old to travel the world

I did not feel brave when we closed the door of our family home. It felt like my entire life was being eroded, one piece at a time. The truth is, it was the right time for something else, something larger. My hand lingered at the doorknob as the weight of our actions pressed against my chest. We raised our four daughters in this house, where we hosted countless holiday and birthday dinners and watched our nine grandchildren splash around the pool and run barefoot across the backyard. Now, it was empty—sold, along with our cars, our furniture, and even the physical therapy business we’d spent years building.

My husband Shayne and I exchanged a glance almost daring one another to change their minds. It’s true, I nearly did. It was too late.

In our 50s we were empty nesters who spent years building a house, a business and a life. But at some point, it all started to feel heavy—not bad, just predictable. We felt like we were repeating the same Tuesday. We traded everything for two suitcases and a backpack. One-way tickets were also included. BaliWe had a dream that we could not fully explain. It was to travel the world deliberately, slowly and on a budget. We weren’t retired. We were not trust fund babies. We just wanted to squeeze as much meaning out of the remaining time.

Although I was standing on the porch holding the keys, I felt timid. I felt terrified.

The Leap

The decision did not come over night. It began as a whisper—an idea we tossed around during vacations, long walks around our neighborhood, and while floating in the pool. The whisper became louder and I began to think more and more of my mother, Sandy.

She always had a dream of traveling once she retired. She planned out her genealogy trips, but eight months later she died from cancer.

This truth haunted my mind. It reminded me we were all waiting too long—for the grandkids to grow, for the business to settle, for the mythical “right time” that never arrives with a calendar invite.

We stopped waiting one day.

Launched Jet Set ClubWe are a company that offers daily flight deals around the world to our subscribers. This helps them discover new and affordable ways to see the world. Together with our travel blogs, Jetset Petersons, we were able to create a small source of income which allowed us continue to live our dreams. We sold everythingWe cut back on our spending and used the savings we had to finance this trip. We kept track of every dollar we spent and made a promise to live on much less. After a time, we realized that having a home base in the U.S. was important to us. The cost of renting Airbnbs also added up. We decided to buy a small condominium, which is used when we visit the city and rented out on Airbnb whenever we’re away.

We began in BaliWe rented a villa in with a pool for $900 per month. We exchanged Target runs with dinner dates and $1 noodles at Warungs. Errands were done in the car, but we swapped them for scooter rides into the jungle, where we discovered waterfalls. It was a little unnerving at first. We didn’t know the language and had no plans beyond the next few months.

Something changed in the stillness. We were living with less—and somehow feeling more.

Moments that Changed Us

Travel didn’t just change how we saw the world—it changed how we moved through it.

The following are some of the ways to get in touch with us Thailand, we woke to the sound of birds, the air thick with jasmine—a simplicity that felt more profound than anything we had ever known back home. We learned how (barely) to ride a scooter, to remove our shoes at temples and to identify the best spots. Khao soi We were surrounded by food stalls. With just two suitcases each, we felt lighter—physically and emotionally—than we had in years.

We travelled slowly in Spain and avoided tourist attractions. We ate at 10 pm, bought fruit from the market and got lost more than we can count in the Gothic Quarter. We weren’t on vacation—we were just living differently. Life felt slower. Sharper.

We wandered around charming neighborhoods in France, enjoying quiet moments at tiny cafes and the simple pleasure of a buttery croissant. In ParisWe walked along the Seine and took in the art, culture, and architecture of the city while walking more than 20,000 steps per day. It was there that we truly understood the beauty of unhurried living—the way the French do it so effortlessly.

Not all moments went according to plan. We misread the requirements for visas to Vietnam and ended up making a detour into Cambodia at the last minute. We landed with no hotel, no itinerary, and absolutely no clue—yet somehow, we ended up at a charming boutique inn where the staff treated us like old friends. We were awestruck at the beauty of Angkor Wat and visited it three days in a week. It was one of those pleasant surprises that made our journey even more memorable.

It turns out that the best memories we make are not the ones we have planned. They’re the ones that catch us by surprise and remind us how adaptable—and deeply human—we all are.

What We Gave Up—and Gained

We are often asked what is the most difficult part. It’s not long flights, unfamiliar languages or money. It’s our people.

We left behind our four daughters, nine grandchildren, friends for life, and a home and family we had spent years creating. Birthdays, soccer matches, and dance performances are missed. When we babysit the grandchildren, it’s hard to miss out on Sunday dinners, messy arts projects, or bedtime giggles.

Sometimes, the grief of that distance sneaks in quietly—over a blurry FaceTime call or an empty chair at the holiday table.

What we have gained is something valuable: presence.

Without the noise of a busy life, we listen better—to each other and to ourselves. Mornings are quiet and filled with conversation. In the last two years, we’ve laughed a lot more than in the previous 10. We’ve argued less. We’ve marvelled more.

We have also redefined the word “home”. Zip code and mortgage are not what defines home. Home is wherever we feel peace—whether we’re savoring street food in Amsterdam, wandering rice terraces in Bali, or standing hand-in-hand at the edge of the South Pacific Sea, wondering how we ever lived so small in such a big, beautiful world.

We’ve been married for 36 years, and through it all—raising kids, building businesses, and now traveling the world—we’ve learned how to support each other in ways we never imagined. Every adventure and every challenge has only strengthened our bonds, reminding that the best thing about this journey, is to do it together.

Live with Intention at Home

It’s always interesting to see how we have changed when you return home for a short time every year. We no longer rush through appointments, errands and the daily whirlwind. We spend time with our families, savoring conversations and special moments that would have otherwise been lost. We spend more time thinking about our purchases, priorities and how to spend our free time. We’ve realized that quality is far more important than quantity when we are at a family event or enjoying a quiet day at home. Traveling taught us to appreciate the little moments that make up life. We now bring this mindset back home and make each day feel a bit more meaningful.

The Life we Didn’t Realize We Were Awaiting

Two years later, here we are. We’ve been to 14 countries and lived on less than $3000 a month. Our life is less about ticking boxes and more about collecting moments and saying “yes”.

This isn’t just a story about travel—it’s about permission. Permission to start again at any age. To trade comfort for curiosity. To realize it’s never too late—or too expensive—to choose a life that finally feels like yours.

We did not just downsize the things we own. We reduced the pressures, pace and expectations that defined us in the past. Letting go of the old definitions for success was not easy, but it made room for more meaningful things: joy, growth and a closer connection to others and the world. What we’ve learned is that the life we were truly waiting for wasn’t found in a place or in things—it was found in the choice to live with intention, to say “yes” to what truly matters, and to embrace the unknown together, with open arms.