My Version of Paradise Falls

I once dreamed of coming here with someone. A shared dream, like Carl and Elle in Up. We would walk side by side beneath the spray, hands brushing, laughter echoing against the roar of the water. I imagined pointing out butterflies, taking photos on worn wooden walkways, and sharing promises in the mist. We’d call it “our version” of Paradise Fall, some romantic ode to dreams fulfilled.

But that person never came. The years passed. And the dream stayed.

So I came anyway. Alone. Today.

Like Carl, when he finally takes the journey without her. Older, quieter, still carrying the weight of what never happened, but willing to make the journey count anyway. And I felt that. Not just in my legs as I hiked through jungle trails with fever in my bones, but in my spirit. There was no one else to lean on. No hand to hold. Just me. And my stubborn, beating heart that refused to give up on the girl who once watched Up and whispered, One day, I’ll go there too.

And I did.

I stood in front of Iguazu Falls and felt the earth vibrate. The air itself moved like breath. Water thundered over stone with a power that humbled everything inside me. I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel lost. I felt… still. As if my body finally caught up to a dream that had been waiting for me all along.

Couples walked past me, arms linked, laughing. And sure, some part of me wished I had someone to share it with. But deeper still, there was pride. I didn’t need a witness for this to matter. But louder still was the truth:

I was enough.

My awe was enough.

My presence was enough.

My love, even unreceived, even unreturned, was enough.

I was the story. I had made it here not because someone held my hand, but because I kept choosing to move forward, even when it was hard, even when I was sick, even when no one knew.

This was my version of Paradise Falls. Not the one I dreamed of, maybe. But the one I earned.

And in that moment, I realized something: the dream didn’t die because I was alone. It transformed. It belonged fully to me now.

I didn’t just make it here.

I claimed it. In the roar of the falls, In my quiet heart, in strength, in solitude.