What this Course is About

Lots of people sit around and dream about making the leap from the cube to a location independent lifestyle, but most never actually make the leap. They’re not sure how, they come up with excuses, and they don’t know where to seek support. In this course, we’ll tackle all those issues. You’ll learn how to plan the leap smartly and map your path to location independent living and working.

You Should Watch this Video if:

  • you’ve ever stared at the walls of your cubicle and wondered what you’re doing there
  • you’ve ever looked at your boss and thought, “I could do what you do and do it better”
  • you’ve ever thought “I could be my own boss”
  • you’ve ever thought “I’d love to live/work somewhere else in the world”
  • you’ve ever thought “I’d love to have my own business and no fixed home address”

About Julie Schwietert Collazo

Julie Schwietert Collazo is a bilingual (English-Spanish) writer, editor, and consultant who has led the world’s largest online travel magazine, Matador, to become a two-time winner of the Society of American Travel Writers’ silver Lowell Thomas Award for best online travel magazine. Her writing and photography appear frequently in renowned print and online publications, and she is frequently invited to speak at conferences and on professional panels regarding the use of social media for the promotion of cities and countries as travel destinations.

Julie’s primary area of geographic focus is Latin America and the Spanish-speaking Caribbean, where she has traveled extensively for the past 17 years. She has lived in Puerto Rico and Mexico City. Most of her work focuses on overlooked people and places, and she writes about art, culture, food, business, science, and politics in the region.

In 2005, Julie assumed the role of managing editor at Matador, and helped grow the online magazine’s audience exponentially. She oversaw the development of a sister site in Spanish, as well as the creation of the magazine’s online travel writing and travel photography education program, MatadorU, which she has directed as lead faculty member since 2009. Dozens of her students and alumni have gone on to win awards for their work, and the program has been recognized by the journalism faculty of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill as a leader in online education.

In 2011, Julie spearheaded a novel initiative between Matador and the Belize Tourism Board, in which a total of four writers and photographers were sent to the country for three-month residencies. The program has helped draw increased positive attention and coverage to the overlooked country, and resulting articles and photo essays have appeared in a variety of media outlets, including CNN.

Julie is frequently asked to speak at international conferences about the topics of destination marketing and promotion, the use of social media in travel marketing, and capacitating small business owners to maximize online tools and platforms for success.

She holds a BA in English and Women’s Studies from Emory University, a Masters of Social Work from New York University, and has completed part of her doctoral work in Literature in Spanish at Puerto Rico’s El Centro de Estudios Avanzados de Puerto Rico y el Caribe.

How did Julie do it?

I was always a Type A person, the good girl, the student in your school who was “Most Likely to Succeed.” When I graduated from Emory University in 1999 with my BA in English and Women’s Studies, I moved to New York City to accept a summer internship at a social service agency. The internship turned into an offer of a full-time job, turned into going back to school for my Masters in Social Work, turned into becoming the youngest ever person to hold the title of Assistant Director at the major non-profit where I worked.

Secretly, I hated it.

On the side, I was developing a private psychotherapy and creative arts therapy practice with two friends, and I was pouring my heart, my soul, and most of my money into it. I had a keen sense of what it took to be an entrepreneur (basically, a whole lot of sacrifice over a long period of time), but my partners didn’t; after a year or so, they bailed and I was left wondering: What next?

All the while, I was still holding my middle management job, the one with no real power or authority to spearhead change. The one where I was doing double duty; I still had all the responsibilities of my therapist colleagues, but I also had management responsibilities, such as marketing and interviewing. One day, while in supervision with my boss (who was resentful of my youth and my knowledge of the agency), she asked how we were going to work together if I continued to be such a dreamer. “We’re not,” I heard myself say, “because I quit.”

Even as it was coming out of my mouth, I felt two competing feelings: the first, utter liberation. The second: fear. Quitting my job (after my parents had just finished paying off my Masters, no less) was not what I was “supposed” to do. I had no savings, and I had no Plan B. But I knew that there was no taking back that resignation.

And I also knew this: I wouldn’t want to even if I could.

Two weeks later, I cleaned out my office, turned in my work ID and keys, and hit the road. Literally. I got in my car with my dog and my boyfriend and we just started driving. It took a while, but eventually, we figured out where we were going.

I decided that I wouldn’t be going back to non-profit work. I was worried my parents wouldn’t approve (they didn’t, but they got over it. What parents really want most for their kids is for them to be happy and stable.). I was worried I’d be starting my career from the ground up (I would, but that was part of the fun). And I was worried about where I’d live: my sudden joblessness and an expiring lease in New York City presented an immediate problem.

My guy and I packed ourselves up and moved to Puerto Rico, where I began working as an editor and writer, picking up jobs on CraigsList. It certainly wasn’t what my peers or professors had had in mind when they picked me “Most Likely to Succeed.”

But I was happier than I had ever been.

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