Reflections on Travel 01.

Aloneliness

The other night, I was sitting at a bar having a drink when a stranger sat beside me. He looked surprised to see me there without friends and asked if I was really sitting at the bar alone and lonely. 

I replied that I wasn’t lonely, I was with myself. The question told me so much about how people perceive a stranger, let alone a woman, enjoying herself in public.

There was an inherent assumption that I must have been waiting for someone.

The joy of solo travel is that I’m no longer waiting. No waiting for friends to say yes, no waiting for a partner to enjoy a beautiful vacation, no waiting for special occasions to live my life or go where my heart wills.

More women are decentering romantic relationships, taking solo trips, and dating themselves. We’re back at the center of our lives. But in all my travels, the question of loneliness always appears. Aren’t you lonely?

Usually, the answer is no. There are experiences I prefer to have alone.

I love to visit museums by myself. There’s no pressure to visit every gallery. I can stop and read the displays or scan through exhibits at my pace. And as soon as I’ve had enough stimuli, I leave.

I like sitting at cafes for hours with a coffee and a journal, lost in my thoughts, or taking trips to the beach to swim in the sea. And in those moments where I’m truly alone, my mind becomes clear. There’s a sense of grief and regret in loneliness that doesn’t exist in aloneness. Alone is just the absence of the other. But maybe it can also mean the togetherness of the self.

On a solo trip, you’re guaranteed to be alone at times, but you don’t have to feel lonely. Through travel, I’ve discovered how equally rejuvenating it is to fill your cup with people. The paradox is that in being alone, I’ve often encountered the most surprising connections. People I never would have met, places I wouldn’t have gone, experiences I wouldn’t have had.

I’ve danced with random strangers on the beach, listened to people’s stories of lost love, discovered the power of the random hello. Of saying yes and allowing things to unfold.

There’s a kismet in being alone. In showing up for yourself, in not waiting for the moment, in knowing you are the moment because you’re already with yourself.