I have a confession that would make any dermatologist sigh deeply: I do not care for the cold.

Actually, let’s be real. I straight-up wage war with the cold. When that first icy breeze hits in November, my skin immediately files an HR complaint. I get hives. Rashes. My teeth tremble like they’re auditioning for a percussion section. My lips shiver so violently I look like I’m trying to Morse-code my way out of winter.

And yet. AND YET!

Here I am, daydreaming about going to Iceland. In. The. Winter.

Yes. The same person who can’t walk into an over-air-conditioned grocery store without breaking into hives is fantasizing about glaciers, snowstorms, and wind that slaps you like it’s personally offended.

My body says, “Girl, NO.”
My soul says, “Pack the thermal socks and let’s go chase the Northern Lights.”

It makes no sense. But that’s my brand of chaos.

Because there’s something magical about being in places at their extreme. Give me the dramatic lighting, the freezing air that turns breath into tiny ghosts, the feeling that you’ve stepped into a world that doesn’t want to be tamed.

This is also why I, a person whose skin literally rebels at 32 degrees, want to do midnight outreach in NYC in February with my team.
Everyone else is like, “Can we do this in spring?” And I’m out here like, “Bundle up, buttercups we’re going where the real stories live.”

Maybe it’s because the cold forces you to feel alive. Maybe it’s because discomfort is where the interesting things happen. Maybe it’s my inner anthropologist who wants to witness humanity at the edges. Or maybe I’m just a little delightfully unhinged.

I blame Alaska. I went in December once when daylight was basically a rumor and it was beautiful. Not cute. Not pretty.
But cosmically beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes you forget your toes are numb and question whether frostbite is a fair price for transcendence.

So yes, I hate the cold. But I chase it. I itch, I shake, I shiver and then I sign up for more.

Maybe that’s what life is at its best.
A little rashy, a little unreasonable, and utterly breathtaking.