I Lost My Wallet in Mexico — And It Taught Me a Lesson About Letting Go

Taken moments before I lost my wallet… LOL! At least, I look cute?

Life in Vallarta has been all about healing — embracing the Mexican way of life, building community with locals, and learning more about myself. I’ve made so much progress from where I was a year ago. It’s wild to think that just last year, I was in a tiny shoebox apartment in Brooklyn paying $3,300 a month. That apartment served its purpose, but something was missing.

What, you ask? I was missing myself. I was lost AF.

I’d been in New York for five years before I finally woke up and realized I wasn’t me anymore. I was angry. Constantly anxious. I even had an anxiety attack that landed me in the hospital. I lived through the pandemic in New York — I never left. Day in and day out, I was in the trenches. Sirens all night. Sirens all day. Warnings, long lines, masks, isolation. The only escape was walking or stress eating my way through a depressive relationship with someone who was emotionally and verbally abusive.

I knew there was hope on the other side… but at the time, it felt impossible. Before the pandemic even started, I’d lost my mom — and that pain lingered. I was working a job that drained me mentally, but I’d moved across the country for it, fully believing in what I was doing and who I was doing it for. But neither seemed to respect me anymore. To put it bluntly, I was struggling to stay alive. I was struggling to grow up. To find myself again after my mom’s death, a soul-sucking job, and a crumbling relationship.

One night, I took a couple of legal hits of weed to relax (and honestly, who cares at that point — at least it wasn’t crack, LOL). But instead of relaxing, I spiraled into a full-blown panic attack. It was unbearable. I called my dad, who helped calm me down, and we decided to call 911. Ambulances in NYC were quick that night — though weirdly, they had me come down to meet them. I remember thinking, “This is strange.”

Anyway, I ended up in the hospital, where they diagnosed me with a panic attack. My first one that serious. The weed probably didn’t help, but the truth is, I was just overwhelmed.

A week later, my dad said something I’ll never forget: “We can’t fix everything at once. You have to change one thing at a time.”

That stuck with me. And eventually, moving to Mexico became that “one thing.” I had to leave New York before it completely consumed me. I still love that city — but it can chew you up and spit you out. It’s not for the weak.

Now, living in Puerto Vallarta has been about rediscovering who I am. I’m empathetic. I’m calm. I’m relaxed. But I’m also learning to stay aware — because life has a funny way of reminding you to stay grounded.

So picture this: I was walking down Los Muertos Beach the other day with my fanny pack, like I always do. My wallet — thin, sleek, and expensive — was inside. Notice how I said was.

Because, baby, it’s gone.

It was a beautiful leather wallet I bought as a going-away gift to myself when I left New York — a reminder that I’d made it out. In New York, labels matter. In Mexico, your heart matters more.

Losing it felt symbolic. In the U.S., I might’ve spiraled — angry, embarrassed, panicked. But here? It just… didn’t matter as much. Sure, it’s inconvenient. I had to order a new debit card, and I’ll replace my ID soon. But I still have my passport. My life. My freedom.

And that’s what this loss really reminded me of — freedom.

I don’t need to obsess over material things anymore. I don’t need luxury brands to feel worthy. Losing that wallet showed me how much I’ve grown. I’m still human. I’ll still make mistakes. But I’ll keep learning, adjusting, and coming out stronger.

I’m writing this because I know some of you beat yourselves up when you lose something or when life goes sideways. But remember: you’re human. We’re all just trying to get through this life a little wiser, a little softer. Mistakes happen — just dust yourself off and bounce back.

And if you ever find yourself abroad and lose your wallet too — call your bank. Most can send replacement cards internationally. You’ll figure it out. We always do.

Heading to PV soon? Don’t forget to lock eyes on my EXCLUSIVE list of the most perfect hotels for your stay here.