Nashville Girls’ Trip: The Vacation I Still Need
For three years, I had not taken a real vacation.
I had traveled. I had gone places for work, events, responsibilities, and other people’s special moments. But I had not taken a trip that was simply for me. No assignment. No obligation. No purpose beyond getting away, having fun, and allowing myself to breathe.
The last time I had anything close to that was in 2023.
Since then, life has been doing what life does. I am a full-time single mother, a caregiver, a business owner, an employee, a content creator, and about seventeen other things depending on the day. Add the cost of living, the responsibilities waiting at home, and the mental gymnastics required to make anything happen, and a vacation can start feeling like a luxury you cannot afford.
But this year, I made a decision.
I was taking a trip.
By any means necessary.
This Nashville girls’ trip was the getaway I had been promising myself for three years.
Planning Our Nashville Girls’ Trip
Once I decided I was going, I reached out to my girls. They are usually down for a trip, and unlike me, some of them had still been getting away and living their best traveling lives.
I had one request.
Somebody else needed to plan it.
The truth is, I am good at planning. I know how to organize an experience, build an itinerary, communicate with vendors, manage a budget, coordinate people, and make sure everyone has a good time. That is literally part of what I do.
But being good at something does not mean you always want to do it.
I did not want to micromanage grown women. I already have two children who need schedules, reminders, answers, snacks, directions, and occasional redirection. On this trip, I wanted to pack my clothes, show up, and let somebody else tell me where we were going.
That was the dream.
The reality was a little different.
Our trip started with ten women and eventually became seven. With people dropping out, payments shifting, deadlines approaching, lodging needing to be changed, and activities still waiting to be finalized, the planning process became more complicated than expected.
The women who stepped up did their best, but as the trip got closer, I could see that we needed a little more structure if this Nashville trip was actually going to happen.
And your girl had to step in and do what she does.
I even apologized in advance.
I told everybody that I might sound a little direct. I might be a little snappy. I might start handing out deadlines and asking questions nobody wanted to answer. But at that point, we had moved beyond casually discussing a trip in the group chat.
We had to get this trip done.
So, we got it done.
The Airbnb was handled. The activities were booked. The money was worked out. The itinerary came together. Seven women from Cincinnati packed their bags, put on their outfits, and headed to Nashville.
Cincy Seven was officially outside.
And Baby, We Had a Time
Once we made it to Nashville, the stress of getting there finally started to feel worth it.
We ate good. We dressed up. We laughed. We danced. We took pictures. We made content. We celebrated seven women who are bosses, creatives, entrepreneurs, investors, professionals, mothers, and forces in their own right.
We visited the National Museum of African American Music, where we got to walk through the history, creativity, and influence of Black music. We went to Madame Tussauds, posed with the stars, and participated in a wine tasting. We stepped back into the ’90s at the Back 2 the Video Store speakeasy experience.
And then there was the Cashville Tour Bus.
Listen.
That experience exceeded my expectations. We danced, toured the city, turned up, laughed until our sides hurt, and gave Nashville the full “Aunties Gone Wild” experience. Mocha and Candi definitely understood the assignment.
There were meals, drinks, outfits, inside jokes, late-night conversations, and memories that will probably be brought up in our group chat for years.
It was epic.
I needed those moments more than I realized. I needed to be around women who knew how to laugh loudly, celebrate each other, and leave their everyday responsibilities behind for a little while.
I am grateful we went. I am grateful that the trip came together. I am grateful for every woman who showed up and contributed to the experience.
But I also came home exhausted.
The Part the Recap Reels Don’t Show
Social media will show the outfits.
It will show the food, the museums, the drinks, the tour bus, and the clips of us dancing like we did not have children, jobs, bills, or knees that might require a recovery period.
What it will not show is the mental load.
It will not show what it feels like to be the person keeping track of the schedule, answering questions, monitoring the time, communicating changes, confirming reservations, solving problems, and quietly making sure everybody else is having a good experience.
Even while I was having fun, part of my brain was still on duty.
Are we leaving on time?
Does everybody know where we are going?
Did we account for everybody?
Is the transportation handled?
Does everyone have what they need?
Are we staying within the schedule?
Is everybody having a good time?
That constant mental checklist does not disappear simply because you changed cities.
And this is not about blaming the women I traveled with. I love my girls, and we had an amazing experience together. This is about recognizing something in myself.
I am so accustomed to being responsible that sometimes I do not know how to completely turn it off.
Even when I leave home to rest, I can somehow find another shift waiting for me.
Fun Is Not Always Rest
This trip taught me that fun and rest are not the same thing.
I had fun in Nashville. A lot of fun.
But I did not fully rest.
Rest, for me, means not having to be in charge. It means waking up without an alarm or itinerary. It means sleeping until my body is ready to move. It means not being responsible for whether anyone else is comfortable, entertained, on time, or having a good experience.
It means allowing my brain to be quiet.
As a mother, caregiver, employee, and business owner, I spend most of my life anticipating what somebody else will need. Even the experiences I create through iCandi Productions are built around making sure other people feel welcomed, entertained, and cared for.
I love creating those experiences.
But the person creating the experience needs care too.
Sometimes the strong friend needs somebody else to check the reservation. Sometimes the organizer wants to sit in the passenger seat. Sometimes the woman who can make everything happen does not want to make anything happen.
Sometimes she just wants to sleep.
The Vacation After the Vacation
My recovery from Nashville is taking a little longer than I expected.
Part of that is because we packed a lot into the weekend. Part of it is because I returned home to the same responsibilities that were waiting for me when I left. But another part is because I was never completely off.
Now I realize I need another kind of getaway.
Not another itinerary-filled girls’ trip. Not a work trip. Not an event. Not an experience I have to produce.
I need something quiet.
I need a bed, a peaceful view, good food, and nowhere I am required to be. I need time to sleep, think, write, breathe, and mentally reset. I need a trip where I am not responsible for creating anybody’s experience but my own.
And I am going to give myself that.
For years, I treated rest like something I had to earn after everything else was finished. But everything is never finished. There will always be another responsibility, another bill, another project, another person who needs something, and another reason to postpone taking care of myself.
Nashville reminded me that I am still a woman outside of everything I manage.
She deserves fun.
She deserves friendship.
She deserves adventure.
And she also deserves rest.
Cincy Seven took Nashville, and we absolutely had a time. I would not trade those memories for anything.
But the next trip I take might be a little quieter.
It might be just me, a comfortable robe, room service, and a phone set to Do Not Disturb.
Because sometimes you need a girls’ trip.
And sometimes you need a vacation from being the girl who holds everything together.
Comments