I Traveled Solo and Faced My Loneliness

I’m going to be cliché when I say that traveling by yourself is a rewarding experience. Though, I don’t call solo travel rewarding because of the romantic self-discovery and potentially aesthetic photo ops—no, if you’ve seen wanderlust vlogs, those are tired. For me, traveling solo was rewarding because it forced me to fully feel and accept the growing loneliness in my life.

One layoff, one failed engagement, and no place to live lined up, I felt more lost than ever before. So, like anyone living post-”Eat, Pray, Love,” I booked a trip. In my case, I found a women’s art therapy retreat to attend in France and decided to see a little more of the country before going back home. I felt pieces of myself were broken and missing, but I had not yet admitted that I needed love and togetherness at some point to finish mending my broken heart—hell, I didn’t like that I had a heart to break.

I started the path to healing when I booked a spot at the art therapy retreat. The retreat was all about acknowledging our fears and our sadness, letting go of the need for control, opening ourselves up to what was actually important, and opening to love. The love part was particularly difficult for me for… reasons. But, I got to feel all those things with a group of women each facing their own demons. We felt it all together. There were ample tears of sadness, joy, and laughter, and plenty of hugs to go around. We threw into a fire what was holding us back and screamed to the sky in catharsis. God, it felt good. Although, all that opening up left me a little raw and timid of continuing a trip that would require more of my scarce fortitude. I was afraid of getting lost, running out of money sooner than intended, looking ridiculous and out of place, and… and of being alone.

Being afraid of being alone was a new feeling for me. But, like I mentioned earlier, before going on this trip, the loneliness had been building. I was in a bad spot and the retreat made me admit that despite my history of craving space. I was an introvert! I didn’t need people! I had long lamented my lack of alone time coming from a big family and not having been self-sufficient during my early twenties. I wanted this time alone. I wanted to be alone. I loved taking myself out on dates! But, I’d started to feel differently and that feeling was only amplified when I left the safety of the art retreat.

Everywhere I went in France, I saw people being together. Public spaces were gathering places and almost nobody ate alone. In Rennes, university students were together. In Bordeaux, people gathered after work for apero and boisterously enjoyed each others’ company. (Many an unironic “ooh la la” and “oh lo lo” were thrown about.) Even in Paris where the pace of life felt faster, people would often be in pairs. Yet, there I was, occupying café tables by myself, soaking in everything without understanding much except that they were in community with each other and I was just passing through. My journal became my lifeline because it gave me something to interact with and made it at least appear to those around me that I was completely comfortable with my solo status—like I was used to being when I was at home. I was reeling from life changes, in an unfamiliar place, and feeling pretty raw from the retreat after admitting I wanted love, so I finally felt really lonely. However, I’m glad I felt that severity of loneliness. I’m glad I got to know it well because it motivated me to seek out togetherness and savor it. When I got back to Paris towards the end of my trip, I sought to meet up with other solo travelers through hostel chats. I enjoyed being with people and making friends, and I really appreciated their company. I even met up with people I knew from back home who happened to be traveling alone at the same time as me. We agreed it was wonderful to get out and see more of the world, but that we wished we could share more of the journey with someone else. I went to a concert at an art collective and talked to other people first. I loved it. I was finally on the up because I’d faced my feelings, accepted them instead of seeing them as weakness, and sought community as part of the healing process.

When I arrived back at home, my problems didn’t go away. I still needed full-time work, I still had closure that needed to happen with my ex, and I still needed a new place to live. But my mental state was on the mend because I let myself feel scared and lonely without feeling lesser for having those feelings. I don’t have any solutions for the loneliness that ensues when you travel by yourself because you kind of have to feel it to appreciate when you’re in community with others. But I can say that feeling lonely is okay, it’s not forever, and you might need to travel solo to understand how it affects you, too.