If you told me last year that I would go on a girls’ trip with five women who I met on the Internet, I would probably give you some crazy side-eye. But that is exactly what happened.

Since delving into the content creator world, I have learned some hard lessons about being more cautious of who I connect with. Not everyone is going to be honest or treat you with respect. But in the midst of navigating the bad, I have been gifted with so much good in the form of support, kindness, and friendship from some wonderful Black women.
Six of us decided to meet up – most of us meeting each other for the first time – in New Orleans in October. We reserved a gorgeous house on Vrbo, rented a giant SUV big enough for all of us (but not our luggage – oops!), and embarked on three and half days of food, conversation, and pure joy.



Our first night in the city, we grabbed dinner to-go from Mother’s, a New Orleans institution that has been around since the 1930s. After filling up on delicious comfort food, we went to the Saenger Theatre for RuPaul’s Night of the Living Drag, which was every bit as amazing as you can imagine. The night did not end there, and a few of us braved the stage at Cat’s Meow, a Bourbon Street karaoke spot.

The next day was brunch at Molly’s Rise n Shine on Magazine Street before venturing to the French Quarter for Hand Grenades (yes – those Hand Grenades as seen in the movie Girls’ Trip). Then it was back to the Vrbo house for some rest and relaxation. By the way, this rental had the most wonderful heated pool in the backyard, perfect for dipping our toes while sipping drinks and just chatting it up. That night was a delicious dinner at Bourbon House before doing a little people watching in the Quarter.

Our last day in the city was bittersweet. The weather was perfect for hangover bowls at Willa Jean’s accompanied by deliciously spicy bloody Marys before we strolled toward Café du Monde for beignets and coffee. But we could not help but focus on the fact that it was our last day together. As we sat around the table for our final dinner at Drago’s, the bond between us was obvious. We had transitioned from strangers to family (and were later nicknamed “the aunties of TikTok” by our followers and fellow creators). We embraced each other for who we are – with all of our little quirks and mannerisms – and connected on a profound level.

The next morning, I did not want to say goodbye. The drive to the airport was quiet and pretty lonely, especially in contrast to the rowdy ride that I experienced when I arrived, surrounded by my friends, luggage in laps as we squeezed in the car together. New Orleans was the perfect first meetup and mirrored our little group – vibrant and beautiful, and although unfamiliar, something about it felt like home.