6:50 am, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

I could feel the judgmental stares from the businessmen and women coming into the Petronas Towers that morning to ascend to their important jobs. “What is this late 20-something guy in joggers, a t-shirt and a backwards hat doing here with a camera and a tripod?” It was written all over their faces: I didn’t belong there.

The first irony was that before going full-nomad, I used to belong to this corporate world. I began my career climbing the corporate ladder at a digital agency in Chicago, so I knew exactly what life was like in those high-rise offices. The second irony hit me even harder: I was weirdly, unmistakably happy. Standing in the lobby with a big dumb smile on my face, I felt a stark contrast between myself and the 7am commuters around me. I had woken up at 5:30am in a foreign city, not to attend meetings or answer emails, but to capture photos of beautiful things simply because I love it.

A week earlier, all my gear had been stolen in Bali, but this moment felt like my rebound. There I was, buzzing on life, realizing that this passion project gave me a kind of joy I’d never felt while I was still living according to “The Plan.” The irony wasn’t lost on me—and for once, I was exactly where I belonged.