Alone, Abroad, and Becoming

I just returned from a life-changing journey—my very first solo trip. It was something I’d dreamed about, romanticized even, but nothing could have prepared me for what it would actually feel like. Traveling alone was both terrifying and freeing. It cracked me open in ways I didn’t expect.

There’s something transformative about waking up in a place where no one knows your name. No obligations, no expectations, no need to explain yourself. You are simply you. And for the first time in my life, I felt that in the purest sense. I could move through the world however I wanted, make spontaneous decisions, meet people without preconceived notions, and let curiosity lead me instead of routine.

I met the most incredible strangers—people I never would have crossed paths with back home. There’s a raw intimacy in the conversations you have with people who don’t know your past. It’s like they see you for who you are in that very moment, and sometimes, that reflection is even more honest than what you see in the mirror.

But solo travel isn't always the glamorous, Pinterest-perfect dream. It can get lonely. Really lonely. There were moments when I stood in the middle of some of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen and felt a sudden ache in my chest—because no one was there to share it with. No one to laugh with over dinner, no one to take that candid photo that isn’t a selfie, no one to say, “Remember when we…” later on.

And yet, there’s a strange beauty in that too. The fact that some of these moments belong to only me makes them sacred. No one else saw what I saw exactly as I saw it. No one will ever fully know what I experienced, except through the stories I choose to tell. That’s the quiet power of solo travel—it teaches you to be your own witness.

This trip showed me that being alone doesn’t mean being empty. It means space—space to listen to yourself, to learn what makes you tick, what excites you, what scares you, and what makes you feel alive. I laughed, I sat in silence and listened to the waves, and I danced under city lights with people I’ll never see again. And somehow, in all of that, I found pieces of myself I didn’t even know were missing.

Now that I’m home, everything feels… different. Not just because I’ve seen new places, but because I’ve seen myself in a new way. The things that once felt comfortable now feel limiting. I’ve outgrown parts of my old routine, and I feel a deep pull to keep evolving. This trip reminded me how big the world is and how much more I want to experience. I no longer want to settle into the familiar just because it’s easy—I want to live with intention. I’m now more certain than ever that I want to leave my hometown and start fresh somewhere new. Somewhere I can build a life that feels aligned with who I’m becoming, not who I’ve been. The idea of moving doesn’t scare me anymore—it excites me. I’m ready to chase the version of myself that I met out there in the world.