Wonder: The Gift of Solo Travel

Wonder

Sep 12

For a very long time, I have been enchanted by traveling to far away places. It was little surprise to friends and family that I decided to move to Paris after college to become a full-time au pair. During my French children's school holidays (which were aplenty), I was free to spend my time as I wished. Excited to use such a fantastic transportation hub for my travel home-base, I booked a trip every chance I had.

In the beginning of my year abroad, I tried to persuade fellow au pairs and coworkers (from the British pub I worked at part-time) to travel with me. Nine times out of ten, the following sequence of events would play out:

I propose a travel itinerary to a friend
Friend shows incredible amount of enthusiasm
I start researching and sending travel information to friend
Friend responds with "Iiiiiiiiii reallly don't knowwwwww... money, money, money, blah."
"Friend" finally backs out
I'm alone with research and an empty bottle of wine

It was in this moment of buzzed solitude that I finally said "screw it," and booked the trip... alone.

That was--without question--the best thing I ever did.

As women, we are caring, nurturing, and sometimes sacrificial by nature. We are constantly rearranging our priorities against those of others. Putting ourselves second can be noble in the right context, but the balance of desires fulfilled and sacrificed should always be moving--a fluid give and take.

My problem was that I never really knew what I wanted. This ambiguity hurt me most in relationships so that my actions and plans were shaped (in large part) by the overt desires of a boyfriend. It would only be after the relationship ended that I could plainly see what unfair sacrifices I had made, and how the aforementioned balance was seemingly inexistent.

In order to know what we really want, we need to remove the outside noise of needs and truly hear ourselves. I moved abroad--away from friends, family, and everything that had influenced me before. However, I adapted quickly to life in Paris and this neutralized the effect my transatlantic move should have made.

Traveling alone turned out to be my saving grace.

When we travel alone, each decision becomes forcibly our own—unfettered by the whims or wants of others. The solitude increases the volume on our intuition that had been turned down or muted to hear and accommodate others. We can pursue experiences that provide us with the mental stimulation we seek in that moment, without having to battle the input of someone else. We are also away from the social constructs and pressures of home, leaving us free to examine our own humanity, femininity and existence.

In life, love, or dinner, I can still be indecisive. But unlike before, I can consciously say what I don't want. I don't want to give up X. I don't want to be treated like Y. I don't want to eat Z. This is almost if not just as empowering as knowing what you want.

Three years ago, I joined the ranks of millions of fiercely independent, solo female travelers and I hope it has given them as much as it's given me.