Solo Travel: The Act of Self Love

“In the solitude of solo travel , the mind expands, and the spirit dances to the rhythm of the open road.” – Jack Kerouac

I unequivocally believe every person needs to solo travel. No exceptions.

There's a personal intimacy that solo travel instills. Travel is, and always has been, the balm against the drudgery of life. The bills, meetings, grocery shopping, dentist appointments, yardwork, traffic... a paltry list of life's benign but required responsibilities. You know what I am talking about, as you mentally added ten more things to the list. 

Travel soothes your soul, but solo travel strengthens your most important and, quite possibly, most neglected relationship. 

Your relationship with yourself. 

As life rumbles forward, your relationship with yourself tends to slowly shift from a priority to a, maybe indefinite, pause. Sadly, this appears to be a normal, if unhealthy, life progression. The shift isn't dramatic (usually), but a constant, small shifting of priorities as more people and tasks vy for your attention and time. The causes are as varied as an intimate relationship blooms (or withers), there's a potential promotion at work, you become a parent (maybe), your best friend suffers a crisis, your health needs to be optimized (or maintained at least), and then there's tomorrow and the next decade and what about retirement... oh shit, what happens to everyone else when I die?? 

The abundance of youth, when everything was centered around your interests (no matter how fleeting) and personal discovery, seemingly vanished into adulthood, which usually coincides with starving yourself of personal time and affection. Nowadays, this change happens earlier and earlier, sometimes even before society's arbitrary adult marker of 18 years old, which is utterly ridiculous. When I was teenager, there was substantial pressure to determine my future, but only if I dreamed of a future that fit society's ongoing narrative about what "we" collectively needed. If you weren't aligned with those needs, which at the time was college and a white collar future, or the adults in your life, like teachers, counselors, coaches or parents, didn't believe you were cut out for that, they would direct you towards a vocation that would help you survive and, at least, be a functioning and productive member of society. 

Already, even in the abundance of youth, you were told to think about your life, specifically in the context of societal norms. Is anyone really shocked that teenagers rebel? Let's not forget that accomplishing a milestone, such as graduation or getting a job, quickly shifts towards a conversation about what's next.

"Congratulations, you graduated! What now? Do you have a job? Are you going for a higher degree?" The moment comes and it's all about what's next."You two make such a great couple. When are you getting married? Have you thought about kids?"It's the perpetual tone deaf compliment, "I'm so happy for you, but..."

This isn't a new trend, except now the consequences of this are being felt across every society as more and more people are unhappy. In fact, the depression statistics, especially in the United States, are woefully inaccurate considering accessing mental health services is even more difficult in the broken and convoluted U.S. healthcare system. Also, while we "champion" taking care of your mental health, a medical record of treatment isn't exactly a welcomed bullet on a resume or promotion board.

This is a crisis of identity. While you are acknowledged as an individual, there is an expectation that you should almost always put the needs of others ahead of your own, whether that's family, partner, community, friends or work. If you choose not to, you're egotistical, narcissistic, and selfish. To be fair, these people do exist in many forms, but we usually picture the worst and most parasitic versions. While I believe everyone should be kind, generous, and empathetic, you shouldn't ignore yourself, and your needs, in an attempt to always selflessly serve others because, despite your noble intentions, burnout is inevitable.

Burnout pushes you to question your life and, sometimes, if you know who you are. I mean, the self help industry is worth billions for a reason. And yes, there might be some choice nuggets of advice in a social media post, podcast or book, but those little sparks don't provide the one absolutely critical element: space.

I can read all the philosophical feel good I want, but without space from the suffocation of life, which everyone feels in their own time, change is unlikely to happen. There's a wellness push these days towards using mindfulness to cope with and manage your life or, more cynically, to become more efficient and productive. As a yoga practitioner (and teacher), these mindfulness techniques are not quick fixes and require disicipline to be truly effective. They aren't a shortcut. Oh, while you work on that I still need you to balance all your responsibilities no matter what day of the week it is.

These practices still don't address the need for space, both physical and existential. There is no other technique or life hack that provides an abundance of space like solo travel.  

Solo travel is dedicated time and space to be selfish. It's about you and, literally, nothing else. There's no one to consult about destinations, activities or a schedule. You shut off the alarm (or don't) and live however the fuck you choose. No judgements. No metrics. No email. No grocery list. No waking up focused on the litany of daily tasks. No one else's needs over yours. For this dedicated time, you have nothing but space to do with as you wish. And literally, whatever you do needs to be solely about you. 

Okay, there's this pervasive, romanticized idea that travel is about finding yourself, as if the real you is out there in ether waiting to emerge on an Andean peak in South America, a picturesque beach in Australia, a streetside cafe under the twinkle of Paris, on the plains of Tanzania, floating down a river in Thailand as elephants bathe nearby or under a blanket of stars in the Sahara. While those are amazingly beautiful and emotional moments, you didn't go to those places to find yourself. Do you know why?

You already know who you are. 

The self love in solo travel isn't about discovering yourself. It's about stripping away all that's obfuscated you. In order to love yourself, you need to reconnect with your true self. As we move through life, your signal, the person you really are, gets distorted from all the noise coming from labels, responsibilities, and expectations. You don't need to find yourself. You simply need to reconnect.

Over thousands of kilometers, dozens of cities, and weeks worth of conversations with others, I've learned each person knows who they are. It's really a matter of having the courage to fully, and truly, live authentically. But, that's not easy. I know. I lived much of my life unable to stay attuned to my signal because I put more emphasis on others and my perceived responsibilities, resulting in personal struggles and significant suffering for myself and those around me.

I convinced myself that by prioritizing everyone and everything else, I was doing what was best. In doing so, I made choices in direct conflict with who I am, whether through fear, complacency, apathy, to avoid coflict or please others. However, even in those low moments, I knew who I am. 

The truth is, I've always been the person I am now, especially as a child. Our truest signal is when we're young before the world, more specifically the people in it, attempt to distort it. Each person has to contend with the influences and effects of the people around them. Whether positive or negative, which is subjective, the people closest to us, like parents, siblings, friends, coaches, and teachers, have outsized impacts on our lives. The strength of their signals can easily distort, or jam, your true signal of self. In the end, you might not realize how "noisy" the environment has become. 

There are many ways to tune back in and filter out the noise. In my case, yoga was the start of the process. I fully embraced yoga as a lifestyle, not just a movement practice. While this was pivotal in my life, the real catalyst to re-embracing myself was my first solo trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. 

Solitude & The Paris of South America

While I had finally pursued yoga a few months prior to this, the rest of my life was up in the air. I had retired from the U.S. Navy a year ago, I was briefly an elementary school mathematics teacher and, even briefer, middle school English and Language Arts teacher. COVID was winding down, but life was still months away from normalizing (whatever that means). After a seesaw separation/reconciliation of a 17 year marriage, the closing chapter was underway, and my primary concern was my three teenagers and trying to repair our relationship. While yoga was healing my body and providing my first ever sense of spirituality, there was lots of noise surrounding me.

The first weekend after I resigned from teaching, before my yoga journey started, I booked my trip to Argentina. I knew nothing about Argentina other than Lionel Messi, Diego Maradona, football, Eva Perron, tango, and their world class beef. In that moment, the pandemic made international travel extremely difficult and the holidays were quickly approaching, which I wanted to spend with my kids, so I planned to spend the upcoming March in Argentina and promptly booked a rooftop studio loft in the Palermo area of Buenos Aires.

When my overnight flight finally took off on 28 February, I could feel the gravity of life's struggles dissipate. As the plane climbed above the clouds, there was a potent mixture of emotions. While I was excited to embark on a new, and much needed, adventure, there was also fear. I spoke rudimentary Spanish (at best). I didn't know a single person in Argentina or South America for that matter. I was definitely on my own. My knowledge of Buenos Aires was intentionally limited as I didn't want to taint my observations with the perspectives of others so I had avoided doing any research or social media sleuthing.

While I had traveled during my military career, this trip was my first experience where I had no one to answer to. All my travel prior to this, even my first international trip, as an 18 year old city exchange, to Germany, there were always governing forces, whether that was my employer, the program board or my parents (arguably the most overbearing). I was accountable to someone which casts a long shadow. 

When the wheels touched down in Buenos Aires, for arguably the first time in my life, I was alone and free. During my 30 days of South American solitude, I re-attuned to my true self.

I visited every museum and established a better relationship with art. I've always loved art museums since I was a kid, even though they never were family outings. Between the vibrant street art and museums, I took my time to really explore what styles of art spoke to me. Before I would've simply stated that I enjoyed art without expounding into any specifics. But, all my previous art museum trips I was usually with someone else or a group, which dictated polite social dynamics be observed, meaning the pace and stops were not solely up to me.

My first trip to Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (MALBA) was one of the richest and most significant museum visits I'd ever had. I enjoyed walking into a gallery, pausing, and heading towards whichever painting piqued my interest most. I was free to linger for as long as necessary and have a conversation with a sculpture, painting or installation. Without the distraction of conversation, the pressure of social niceties or worrying about another person's oscillating energy, I could explore why a piece spoke to me, the feelings and thoughts it sparked, and this refined what I'm most interested in and care about. This might seem tiny or insignificant, but the solitude was incredibly instrumental.

I cultivated a lifestyle centered on my two feet. In a month, I walked over 120 miles. There is no better way to experience a place than walking. Well, as a cyclist I would say bicycle, but that's more like a close second based on the chaos of traffic and the availability of bicycle infrastructure. Plus, it requires a purchase or rental. In the United States, walking is really reserved for specific cities with good mass transit, which are few, or only within your specific neighborhood. If you're walking or using mass transit there's an American societal stereotype, in the majority of cities, that you're poor (the exceptions being the handful with really good mass transit).

This is the premier solo travel activity. I would pick a direction and go. My curiosity was my compass. There wasn't always a destination. I simply would wander and see what I would discover. My whole day would be spent on my feet. As the father of three teenagers, this would be a difficult feat, even with friends and partners there would be some form of compromise or concessions. The walking culture in the U.S. is about getting from A to B, as efficiently and quickly as possible. Oh, make sure you record it too. If you don't, did it really happen? I've never enjoyed this so as I crisscrossed "the Paris of South America" I took to enjoying the plazas for a break on a bench or lingering in the grass under a tree with absolutely zero purpose than to just be there. I would put my phone in my backpack and just observe the world around me. No timeline. No to-do list. The unfettered beauty of unstructured time. Frankly, all of us could use more of this.

While this is possible where I lived, the proximity to the societal, even (sometimes) personal, expectations of productivity, would wage an inner conflict. My solo trip was providing the unstructured time and physical space to have legitimate moments with myself. I tapped into the sweetness of existence and, frankly, it's how life is meant to be. An additional benefit to being in a foreign country where I struggled with language was, all conversations around me were effectively ambient noise, unlike in the U.S. where my attention can easily be co-opted in passive, or active, eavesdropping. (C'mon, I'm not the only one that does it.) This provides another insulating factor to unstructured time even if I'm in the busiest cafes, most crowded parks or crowded metro cars.

In my second week, I went out to wander with a few sites in mind. As I headed towards Parque Tres de Febrero, I noticed how nice the sun felt along with the breeze. I watch people laying out on the grass, drinking maté and doing nothing. As I aimlessly weaved through the trees, there was a nice little patch of grass with a mix of golden sun and shade. And that's where I spent the rest of my afternoon. I laid down on the grass and stared at the sky for awhile. I did a little stream of consciousness journaling about my feelings and thoughts in the moment. I titrated between reading a book and taking a nap. Only when I finally felt hungry did I get up and head to the nearest empanada joint. No music. No phone alerts. Just several hours where I felt the Earth's slow spin and love.

I've always heard people talk about being free, but until I experienced living without a schedule the word seemed hollow. My life was always very regimented, starting at 11 years old when I was caddying on weekends and through summers through my twenty year military career. I would wake and do a run through of everything I "needed" to do that day while seeing if I was track for my week and/or month. I know this was a function of America's cult of productivity. Usually time for yourself is limited to a couple of hours in the evening accompanied by physical and mental exhaustion. Even then, the background processes kept running as I evaluate unfinished tasks, believe I'm not disciplined enough, think about how my failure effects tomorrow, and pass out. Rinse and repeat ad infinitum.

For that month, I lived without a concrete, forward thinking schedule. Each day was lived by how I felt. I took to the rhythm of waking up, tuning in, and determining how I wanted my day to proceed. I rejected the idea of a travel checklist or the need to collect memories like Pokémon. Within a week, I found a natural rhythm. Sometimes my breakfast and coffee would last an hour. Other days, I might be there until lunch. If my previous day left me feeling depleted, then my day would be reading a book and a nap in a park I liked or on the couch in my flat. Buenos Aires has enough plazas that I could've probably chose a different one every day for that month. Whatever interested me in that moment I pursued. Whether that was art, architecture, a cultural experience or being open to whatever the Universe would put in front of me, I did it without guilt, judgement or a need to explain how I was spending my time. This was the antithesis of the social media scramble/treasure hunt I watched so many other people perform.

Did I see everything in Buenos Aires? Fuck no. It's a huge city! However, I am always free to go back. Beyond a trip to Iguazu Falls in northern Argentina, I spent the remainder of my time slowly getting to know the city. I learned to navigate without always using my GPS directions or Subte schedules. With 10 days left in my trip, I felt like part of the city. As someone that's struggled with feeling connected to most the places I have lived, I enjoying this patch of grass more than most the others. This was definitely helped by the absences of other people's opinions or comparisons with home.

At first, I didn't give much thought to the damaging effect a travel companion's opinions could have until I was enjoying a cafe con leche and croissant in El Ateneo Grand Splendid, the most beautiful bookstore I'd ever been in. As I sat on the stage, once home to singers and performers, drinking my coffee, I heard the familiar accent of American English. A few tables away was an older American couple complaining about the cafe's speed of service and why they didn't think Buenos Aires was better than cities in America. 

Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinions, but here they were sitting in a historic and magnificent theater turned bookstore and they couldn't enjoy it. Honestly, I was glad that I knew enough Spanish that when the waiter came over, I could complete my order and not be lumped in with them. However, this was that reminder of people traveling together. As my ears tuned in to the gentleman's complaints and his wife's gentle counterpoints, I couldn't help but wonder what her solo experience would've been like. Then, almost on cue, their daugher and her fiancée walked up and the complaints stopped and their "opinions" turned cordgial. I was already very happy and content sipping my coffee and writing, but witnessing that only made the gratitude for my solo trip grow.

And the final real benefit of my solo trip was connecting with new people. There's a unique freedom in meeting people I had no history with. At this point in my life, my relationships, friendships, and casual acquaintances had attachments, expectations, and histories that, in my perspective, hindered growth. When there is a shared history, especially one that's complicated, moving forward is very difficult. I was an unhealthy version of myself for quite awhile, but especially the last decade or so. With that as the foundation, my ability to rediscover and act as the true version of myself was a constant battle because those strings to my past would be pulled, even when I was genuinely trying to show up in a healthier way.

When I left on my trip, I left with the intention to strip away anything that didn't align with me. I had battled depression for the past five years and, because I couldn't seem to break free or have the courage to seek help, those closest to me, like my spouse, kids, and friends, thought I was an angry person. It became a stigma. Even when I wasn't angry, I would constantly be asked if I was. No matter how much I felt I was trying to be different, this wouldn't go away, which only fed my depression as I felt that no one could see the real me.

This stigma, specifically, seemed difficult to overcome considering my personal history and the unhealthy nature of my military career. The military is a difficult environment. From the moment you join, your purpose is to support the mission and follow orders. There's a reason they try to strip your individuality from you in boot camp. Frankly, it's never been a feelings game and never will be. While the best leaders will go the extra step, the mission (no matter how arbitrary) comes first. Whether it's a ship, war zone or training command, being direct is efficient and rewarded. During my career, I embraced a hardened, no bullshit persona, not for the military or for the sake of my career, but to protect the gentle person I was inside. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't and, when that happened, I would cross from being direct to aggressive. One of my colleagues once referred to me as "aggressive aggressive." While he didn't mean anything negative about it, the simple fact I was seen that way generally hurt me because that's not who I am inside.

Setting off on a solo trip provided time and space to reconnect with these parts of myself while making new connections as my true self. And I did. As I embraced my nature and left behind the judgments and expectations of others, I established relationships with others that felt light, free, nourishing, and have endured (over four years as of this writing). I know embracing my true nature and aligning my thoughts, words, and actions was a critical step, as these relationships are stronger than almost all my previous relationships. 

I met Joel and Gustavo on the flight to Buenos Aires as we shared a row. We shared a few dinners and sailed on the Ria de Plata together. Since then, we regularly message each other and I recently visited them in Miami and enjoyed Bad Bunny's halftime celebration. They're two of the nicest and most genuine humans I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I met Parya in an Argentine cooking class. She was living in Argentina for work. After our foray into baking empanadas and flipping crepes, we took a day trip to enjoy the food and vibrancy of La Boca. I had the privilege of celebrating her birthday. We visited the Eva Perron museum and walked and laughed our way around Buenos Aires. The conversations we shared were some of the most interesting as I grew up in the U.S. and she grew up in Iran. Two and a half years later, I visited her in Norway. Even after all that time, the genuineness of the connection we established was as strong as ever, and still is.

I traveled to Puerto Iguazú to take in the majesty of Iguazú Falls, which is a place everyone needs to experience. On the morning I was scheduled to leave, I could barely get out of bed. I had food poisoning and couldn't be too far away from a bathroom. The Airbnb owner, Merce, let me stay and try to recover before my late night flight. She was kind when she didn't have to be. While our interactions were very limited, we're still in contact on WhatsApp. She consistently likes my status updates more than most "friends." When I return to Argentina later this year, I plan to return to Puerto Iguazú I hope I get to see her and share a meal, just not at the last place I ate (which I clearly remember for all the wrong reasons).

In that month, I had an abundance of real connection. I met a contingent of Dutch travelers, a Brit, and a Russian-Canadian watching the UEFA Champions league second leg of Real Madrid vs. PSG, which led to all of us standing amongst the die hard Huracan football faithful cheering and attempting to sing the fan songs. Even now, I still hear from a few of them randomly as each of us crisscross the planet.

By re-embracing myself, I made more genuine connections in a month than any other time in my life. More importantly, by seeing the good that manifested from it, I had more courage to continue to embrace my true traits when I returned. I embraced loving myself and the person I am which allowed me to clearly and intentionally work on relationships I knew would be nourishing and let go of the ones that weren't. While that wasn't easy, as it almost never is, this has fostered more contentment and happiness in my life.

Could I have arrived at this same place without my solo trip? Maybe. Maybe not. I strongly believe the time, space, and solitude were catalysts. I set off on a solo adventure and, at the time, had no idea it would be the most significant act of self love in my adult life.

A Solo Travel Guide to Self Love

Welcome solitude. This is going to be uncomfortable. Embrace it. Be curious when you're in it. Enjoy shedding the emotional weight of constant interactions. Let your inner monologue run because the conversations you have with yourself can be extremely enlightening. This is an opportunity to really distinguish the difference between being alone and being lonely because there is a very clear distinction, and it can seem muddle when you're getting steady streams of other people's opinions or algorithmically selected content fed to you. I've been lonely when I'm constantly with people and felt content and at ease when I'm alone, and vice versa.

During your solitude, record your thoughts. I am a diehard advocate for journaling, especially pen and paper, as it's the best medium to separate you from your device. As you settle into, or struggle with, solitude, notice the distractions you rely on. If it's your phone, which is the primary culprit for most of us (me included), what are you doing? Doomscrolling social media? Mainlining podcasts to avoid the quiet? Constantly streaming music into an earbud that feels surgically attached to your ear? Constantly refreshing the manufactured dark, twisted malaise of news feeds? Neurotically checking your messages and WhatsApp? Scrolling your contacts and randomly messaging people you haven't talked to in years?

Learn to use, and enjoy, airplane mode on your phone, especially in the mornings and evenings. This is your chance to really listen to your inner child. Give that little person the time and space for their voice to be heard. Along the arduous path of adulthood, we find ways to protect our inner child, but in the protecting there's a strong chance that we lose touch. Life is fucking difficult which is why travel is the preferred escape hatch. It's mythologized as the temporary suspension of "real" life so fucking use it!

Take every opportunity of unstructured, free time to listen to and love yourself. Don't shy away from being bored. Emotionally bear hug the shit out of boredom. Take Kerouac's advice and use the solitude to expand your mind and encourage your spirit, and body, to dance.

Be courageous. Setting off by yourself takes courage. There's a lot that can go wrong. In fact, before you do, it's likely many people in your life will remind you just how dangerous, and potentially reckless, this is. But, that's them projecting their own insecurities onto you. They're afraid, which takes them to humanity's preferred imaginary destination "the worst case scenario." They feel compelled to provide you with their opinion. Of course, they'll say it's because they care, but they didn't care enough to ask if you'd like their opinion so I standby their "advice" and "concerns" are more about themselves than you.

When you summon the courage and pack your bag, be courageous and be an optimist. As Paulo Coelho, author of The Alchemist, said , "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it."

In today's world, it take serious courage to be an optimist. If all we did was listen to the tsunami of negativity that rushes through every screen, all of humanity would whip up a batch of cult-inspired Kool-aid and hope whatever comes next is better. It's easy to be pessimistic. Shit, it feels justified most of the time, but where is the self love in that?

When you first imagined your life, I doubt it included the suffocating and mundane aspects of life. I mean, did any kid ever dream of being an insurance adjuster or being excited about resume writing? Absolutely not. A child's wonder is one of the purest and most potent forces of joy in the world.

Do you remember your childlike wonder? Have the courage to set off on a solo adventure with that! Be brave and shed any habits, repetitiveness, and unhealthy social conditioning that stifled your wonder.

Solo travel will constantly challenge you to be courageous. There's going to be trepidation, discomfort, and moments of outright fear. It's part of the experience. Each moment you are tested is a gift. Each moment of joy or surprise is a gift too. When faced with a moment that leaves you ambivalent, have the courage to listen and trust your intuition. These moments are magnificent because no one is there to add their two cents. Self love is learning to trust yourself. And yeah, sometimes the decision might not be the result you envisioned. There are plenty of quotes and modern proverbs about learning more from your failures than your successes, but over the last 18 months of solo travel I've learned one very important lesson.

Intuition is unrivaled. Be courageous. Listen to yourself. Trust yourself.

That's genuine self love.

Eschew expectations. Quite literally, do everything within your willpower to refrain from expectations. Drop the word from your vocabulary. 

This is difficult. It's going to take a lot of that courage I just talked about. In today's world, more than any other time in human history, travel is littered with the landmines of expectation. I'd say there's a societal, even cultural, pressure to maximize every minute of your trip. Of course, at least in the United States, that's because travel is a rare commodity because it's financially prohibitive and/or your job provides you with the bare minimum of paid time off.

Whatever the reasons, it's common for travel to become a checklist of destinations and attractions. If you don't maximize every minute to see, eat, and experience as much as possible, you wasted precious time. I find it very interesting, and a tad alarming, that time is so precious and fleeting when traveling that not one second should be wasted, but the same standard doesn't seem to apply to Saturday Netflix binges on a sunny day.

When traveling with others, there can be a subtle social pressure to always be part of the group, and judgment if you carve out some solitude instead of checking the next block. Sadly, this can transform a vacation into an endurance event. Perhaps you disagree, but it's pretty common for one of the first comments upon returning to be, "I need a vacation from my vacation" as they barrel back into the maelstrom of their "real" life.

Expectations are comparisons. Expectations are imaginary thinking weighed against the subjectivity or, even worse, the deception of others. So, heed the wise words of Teddy Roosevelt, "Comparison is the thief of joy."

Expectations are the antithesis of joy and self love. I have a vicious inner critic. There's a reason "we are our own worst critic" is a common idiom. Expectations might be of your own making or heavily influenced by the soul sucking toxicity of FOMO (fear of missing out) culture. Either way, nothing good comes from expectations of any kind.

Solo travel is your opportunity to reject expectations and any need you feel to justify how you spend your time and, ultimately, live your life. 

After you courageously packed your bag and set off on this dedicated period of solitude, you may have done so with a detailed plan. You've got "X" amount of time and have experiences planned that you feel you need. There's nothing wrong with that. However, don't ignore the true beauty of solo travel: the freedom to pivot. Embrace making changes based solely on how you feel. There's no one to consult with about their feelings. There's no approval committee.

Have the courage to forego expectations and give yourself space to breathe and pursue whatever you feel in the moment. This aspect of solo travel helps strengthen the trust in your intuition. Using low stakes moments to hone your intuition means you'll trust it more when life's stout challenges come for you.

While each person's travel experience is different, there is one implied expectation every traveler deals with, but I doubt ever agrees to. Your friends, family, coworkers, whomever, will question what you did and how you spent your time. It's the inevitable probing of what you did while you're away. As much as the optimist in me wants to believe it's because they care, they're likely to provide their unsolicited opinion about your choices. Hopefully they don't, but its too common of an occurrence to ignore.

If you do forego an attraction or scrap your Wednesday plan to enjoy the sweetness of nothing, the only question that matters is, how do you feel about it? If that's what you needed in that moment, then it's exactly what you should be doing, regardless of where you are. When you describe these beautiful and necessary moments upon returning, don't feel guilty or question the decision if someone else thinks that time could've been better spent.

Lastly, and this is the most difficult, guard against expectations of a story book trip. Of course, you want a good trip, but personal expectations can cast a dark cloud over good experiences. If everything doesn't go as planned, was the trip really a bust? Nope. However, letting go of positive, if unrealistic, expectations is an important step. Before my trip to Buenos Aires, I avoided research and social media because I wanted my experience to be my own. By doing so, even if unintentional, I was able to avoid establishing any overly positive, unrealistic expectations about my trip. 

The more you guard against expectations, the more open you are to all of solo travel's gifts.

Radical authenticity. In my opinion, this might be solo travel's greatest, and most ignored, gift. When was the last time you were completely by yourself? It's a fair and tough question. I know until I solo traveled I did not comprehend how little I was alone. And my life, at the time, provided more opportunities than the most. However, there were always invisible strings, either judgements or expectations, from the myriad of my relationships.

Whether the strings are intentional or not, doesn't really matter. However, trying to cut those strings can be incredibly difficult as, in some cases, that might mean the end of that relationship. Even if that's healthy, it's not easy and doesn't mean you're ready for that. It's hard to embrace the truth that you are not responsible for the old versions of you others hold onto.

Solo travel is the vehicle for living with radical authenticity which, coincidentally, will help alleviate some of the fear about always living as your authentic self. There's always a hesitation when making, what might seem like, a drastic transformation. When everyone in your life have certain perceptions about you, they tend to project who they think you are and not listen when you say otherwise. It's sad, but I imagine reading that line probably sparked a vision of someone in your life.

When you set out on a solo trip, those strings lose their influence, or are severed, by function of time and space. Without the constant presence and pressure of the shadows of your former self, you can fully embrace the person you always have been. The trip is evidence that there are plenty of people that will accept the true you. This is never more present than conversations with strangers.

A conversation with a stranger is a great gift because it's a clean slate. No preconceived notions. No shying away from expressing opinions for fear of judgment. The connection might be temporary. It might be the beginning of a friendship. You never know, but you do know the foundation is authentic.

Choose to be radically truthful and transparent. Think about how great a gift that is. The other person knows almost nothing about you and its unlikely you cross paths again. These are perfect opportunities to lean in and speak your truths.

There's immense liberation in saying a secret or deep held thought or belief out loud. It's even more powerful when you share it with someone else because they are likely to respond with valuable insight. The absence of personal history means the conversation's magnitude is dialed way down. These are easy, pure interactions revealing the opinions and beliefs that are most important to you. It's interesting how much easier this is with strangers than friends, family or even acquaintances. It should be the opposite, but its not.

Undoubtedly, these interactions lead to evaluating the integrity of the personal relationships waiting for you when you return. I doubt I'm alone when I say there's a tendency to not express exactly what we think or feel in fear of being judged or confrontation. While we might filter for what appears to be a good reason, the result is still relationships that are, perhaps, nothing more than carefully selected half truths.

Use your solo travel moments to embrace radical personal alignment in your thoughts, words, and actions. Strip away all that you don't believe in or doesn't nourish you. There are countless opportunities to unburden yourself, even if they are tiny things. Considering how often our "identity" is shaped by the influences that surround us, there will never be a better moment for personal growth, rediscovering yourself, and living in radical personal alignment than solo travel.

The Rundown

"If you have the ability to love, love yourself first." -Charles Bukowski

Okay, Bukowski was a bastard, but also brilliant. And when you think about a negative and unhealthy version of self love, he could fit that bill, but I want you to really think about his words.

Everything begins with loving yourself. If you cannot unconditionally love yourself, you can't unconditionally love another person. In the constant chaos of life along with societal and cultural influences that champion putting others first, solo travel is the best method to realign, embrace, and love exactly who you are. There is no mechanism that can do the same thing in such a short amount of time.

When you take off on your first (or next) solo trip, really trust the process. Dance in the solitude, accepting the light and shadows that will come. You are a courageous just for going, but let that courage permeate all aspects of life. The going is merely the reminder of the deep wells of courage that exist within you. Tap into it with every breath. 

Open yourself to all possibilities. Give any, and all, expectations the middle finger. For however long you're gone, train your awareness to recognize an expectation and then tell it to fuck off. You've got the space and time to develop your sensitivity to their toxicity and that will serve you long after you return.

Be unabashedly and unapologetically authentic! Enjoy the liberating feeling it brings. Every interaction that is purely you is a step in a positive direction for your life. There's nothing to fear. Lead with kindness and don't filter. Whether you believe it or not (right now), the world needs your authentic self.

Finally, pack a bag and just fucking go! With each moment, each kilometer, each conversation, each sunrise, each sunset, strengthen your ability to love by loving yourself.