When I started to travel solo last year and my destinations got less and less traditional, my dad asked me if I was just going for shock value. I laughed and said no, but he was partially right. I wanted to shock myself and once I got a taste of life outside my sterilized, American bubble, I just wanted more.
But why solo? To be honest, it started out of necessity. There was a time where I didn’t have anyone but instead of being lonely, I chose to embrace and cultivate my independence. There were things I wanted to do and if I realized that if I sat around waiting for someone to do them with, I’d be waiting forever. At a difficult point in my life, it felt good to be in control. Now, I’ve got people on my team but I still choose to go solo.
There’s not much you have control over in your mid-twenties. You’re working at the bottom, paying rent to someone you don’t know, testing the waters with friends you’ve probably only met within the last year or two, and placing your heart in the hands of strangers. It doesn’t always go well. No matter how logically you think about it and how closely you follow the instructions on how to protect yourself, people are going to do what people are going to do. But this is one thing I have control over. My trips are experiences that I create for myself and no one can take that from me. Whether it’s by choice or not, going it alone puts the power in my hands.
On my 6th anniversary of being single, I watched the sun rise and set in Morocco, a place that I’ve been wanting to go for years but used to consider “off limits” unless I found a male companion to go with. But after a brutal streak where it felt like that would never be in the cards, I finally said enough and just booked the damn flight. It was everything I could’ve asked for, an intoxicating combination of defying expectations, subverting societal norms, being in control, and doing exactly what I wanted.
We place so much emphasis on romantic relationships, especially for women in their mid-twenties. We’re not only expected but encouraged to repeatedly open ourselves up to heartbreak, then told to deal with the hurt in silence and get back out there because god forbid another year passes without a ring on our finger. There’s an extra layer of pain if your goals are hinging on it. So let’s all throw out the construct of needing someone by your side in order to do what you want. If you’ve got someone, great. But if you don’t, please don’t let that stop you from doing what you want. Go see that movie. Make a dinner reservation for one. And take that trip on your own. Don’t wait for anyone else’s presence for permission to live.
It is so tough to find the balance between accepting full responsibility for your happiness while still remaining open to the meaningful connections that deep down we all crave. I haven’t figured it out, and I feel like it’s something I’ll be working on for the rest of my life. But traveling solo is one way that I’ve explored that dichotomy. You and you alone are responsible for your experience but the same time, you are constantly relying on others. You ask strangers for directions. You take a deep breath and ask that group if you can join them. You swap stories around convenience store tapas and bottom shelf wine. You make plans for the next day because let’s face it, solo is fun but you’d rather be with people. It’s like microdosing on vulnerability. For 24 hours or so, you’re sharing new experiences with total strangers and placing your time, money, safety, and joy in their hands, trusting someone you didn’t know 20 minutes ago with something that you set out to be your own. And if it really goes poorly, you can walk away easier than you can in “real life” but you almost never do.
2019—and if I’m being honest, this decade—had far too many moments when it felt like my happiness was at the mercy of others who used that power irresponsibly. I grew disillusioned and disconnected, and I felt myself slipping into a mindset that I didn’t want to be in. Traveling solo helped me come back from that by reminding me that people are inherently good. Maybe things demagnetize our moral compasses—fear, mostly—and cause us to treat others poorly. But when you’re traveling and only concerned about what’s in front of you, the complications fade away. We recalibrate ourselves and return to our purest form, global citizens who want nothing more than a good experience for ourselves and those around us.
We shouldn’t have to get on a plane to be good to each other. Let’s start with where we are right now and try not to let life get in the way of treating people with kindness, compassion, and respect. It’s a hard world out there and we need each other to get through it. See you all in 2020.