Why I Used to Travel Alone

(and why I still sometimes do)

I’m sitting here watching my partner wash our truck on a nice summer evening because we genuinely like spending time together, even if we’re doing completely separate things. He sees me on my laptop but he doesn’t really care what I’m doing. He just likes my presence. And in the least negative way, it had me thinking about my early twenties when I was out doing things on my own. Not just because I had to, but because I wanted to.

My first solo trip was just a couple states down. Or I guess realistically just one state down because I flew out of PDX, but then up to SeaTac, and then down to Palm Springs. Coachella was just ending so the entire airport was hungover and smelled like I did my freshman year of college, but not me. I was a little buzzed from a $26 bloody mary, before tip, eyes bright, mind open even if a little fuzzy, because I had done something on my own that I wanted to. We could get into me feeling like I needed my parents permission for literally everything until I was 25, but that’s a story for a different time. This trip was for me. Hell, honestly I think I started to write about this in my notes app back when I was on the returning flight. But I’m 32 now so I might have a different perspective about traveling alone.

This isn’t about the trip itself, this is about how it made me feel to do something that was entirely my own. Sure, it was a trip I had won on instagram to go to a photography workshop to help my business, but if I’m being totally honest, I didn’t go because I thought I was going to learn a lot of new things to better my career, I went to better myself. Or I feel now that’s why I went. Back then I’m sure I was just thinking about the hotel bar right by the pool, the sunshine and palm trees, and the Mexican restaurant on-site with vegan flautas. During the trip I didn’t actually do a lot physically during the trip but I realized that I did a lot mentally. I went somewhere on my own, I fought through any anxious fear I had to go through security alone, go to the airport bar alone, walk into California alone, swim in the pool alone, go to a weird photography workshop where they asked me to dance at 8 o’clock in the morning alone. Actually, that one was with people technically, but I wished I was alone for that. Or I wished I had another $26 double bloody mary first. I did all these things by myself that I didn’t think I was capable of simply out of fear or being alone.

Admittedly I didn’t live that long like that before I met my partner, which ironically that is how we met. (Or is that fate?) I realized after that trip that I didn’t have to wait for anyone to come with me to do the things I wanted to do. I could simply go out and do those things. Whatever they were. If I wanted to I could go out and try a new restaurant that I’ve been wanting to try without texting a friend. I could go see that new movie that no one else wants to see. I could go to the bar alone and meet a guy that makes me laugh.

So yeah, I could have stayed inside tonight in our house where it’s significantly cooler and I wouldn’t have squint to write this little blog, but I decided to spend the time with him. And I sit here now realizing that I am still doing things that I want to do. I may have more responsibility now and my wants aren’t as spontaneous, but knowing that I don’t have to have someone beside me to be happy and enjoy life is truly freeing.