How did I end up on Maui? A short story, 23yrs in the making.
I’m Dawson West, a 23-year-old from Ohio, shaped by heartbreak, a brutal motocross crash, and a wild spiritual awakening. I chased meaning through chaos—flipping motorhomes, battling depression, and landing on Maui’s shores. From cosmic signs to surfing Pipeline, I’m learning to live in Divine Time. My journey’s raw, real, and just getting started. #SpiritualAwakening #MauiVibes
Dawson West
6/30/20252 min read
About Me
Born January 17, 2002, at Flower Hospital in Sylvania, Ohio, I’m Dawson West, a 23-year-old shaped by grit and grace. My parents met on a blind date, but their spark fizzled fast. Mom, just 25, took a sales job at Toledo Blade Newspaper, raising me solo with fierce love. My father, scarred by family and military trauma, found a newborn scarier than any battle. But fate sent a hero—my stepdad, a Monroe Police Department captain in our small Michigan harbor town. At 2, I caught my first fish with him, and I was hooked for life.
My childhood was pure adventure—fishing, hunting in creeks, and biking with friends. We had little, but our imaginations built worlds of fun. At 12, we moved to the “nice neighborhood,” a big win for our family—me, my younger half-brother Garrett, and our parents. I joined the “Lions” in First Downers little league as quarterback, leading an undefeated team with raw passion.
High school brought a crushing blow: a back injury—crushed discs and sciatic pain—ended my football dreams. Defiant, I turned to motocross, racing the fastest classes in the Midwest. Then, 2020 hit. Senior year, COVID, and a catastrophic dirtbike crash on my first ride—a 120’ triple gone wrong. Shattered tibia, fibula, collarbone, humerus, and a torn rotator cuff. Trapped in a hospital during peak COVID, no family allowed, my leg screaming like a train was parked on it. High school ended, friendships faded, and I sank into depression, fear, and anxiety.
But something sparked. At 17, I started a six-figure wholesale business, flipping motorhomes, trucks, and boats. By 20, I was making bank but felt empty. Where was the connection? I craved nature, the ocean, the sun—memories of fishing with Grandpa West in Vero Beach, Florida, burned bright. Then, a voice whispered, “Go to Maui.” At 20, I left my girlfriend of five years and flew to Maui, renting a tiny $1,100/month studio in South Kihei, barely big enough for a bed.
Alone, scared, and broke, I hustled—scuba tours, car flipping, surviving. Five months later, I missed my girl and went home. But the world felt like a prison—COVID, control, darkness, spiritual awakening. I was disgusted with it all, with myself. My dad said, “You’re running from yourself!” I argued, “I’m trying to find myself!” Maui kept calling—surfing, ocean, nature. I lived in my Ford Econoline van, homeless, broken, betrayed, battling suicidal thoughts and heartbreak.
Oahu was next—hustling, surfing, fishing, parties, Pipeline. But even paradise turned dark. I witnessed a biker gang shootout in downtown Honolulu. Heaven became hell. Parents separated again, friends gone, purpose lost, I wouldn’t leave bed for weeks.
In 2025, I returned to Maui. Now, I’m living like a king—UFOs in my backyard, strange hitchhikers, major awakenings. Motorcycles, nature, fishing, and YouTube videos fuel my soul. My real story? It’s just beginning.
