I’ve struggled with anxiety my whole life.
I’m so terrified of making a mistake or missing detail, I’m often hyper-vigilant, taking mental notes to trouble-shoot problems that just don’t actually exist.
The idea of traveling by myself was daunting, at first.
When friends told me they’ve traveled alone, I was awestruck and somewhat in disbelief. I didn’t understand that carefree sense of adventure, that ability to just pack up, leave, and hope it all goes well. That’s more faith than my anxieties and worries are comfortable with.
I even have guy friends who tell me they wouldn’t go anywhere alone, though, for most of the men I know, it’s not for safety reasons. It’s about being alone in another country and figuring it out by themselves.
There are loose details to juggle: flights, meals, excursions, stays. There are passports, timezones, different languages and different customs. But I don’t see how those details are any more particular or different than living life, every day.
The honest truth is that I was incredibly scared and overwhelmed by the idea of traveling solo until I finally just got on the plane and went.
[tweetshare tweet=”It is the hardest thing, in a way, to be alone and navigate a foreign world.” username=”myadventuresnow”]
If anything, the possibility of growing as a person, of accomplishing a goal seems like even more of a reason to go.
I mean this in the most sensitive way (as possible): I’m simply tired of women and solo travelers asking if a place is safe.
One of my good friends made a case that a question like that is pretty patriarchal (sexist in many ways) and xenophobic (having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against people from other countries).
If we’re going to play a numbers game, a survey by global experts cited in Haaretz (a publication in Isreal) has the United States on their top 10 list of most dangerous countries for women.
Here’s what they explained:
10. UNITED STATES – The only Western nation in the top 10 and joint third with Syria for the risks women face in terms of sexual violence, including rape, sexual harassment, coercion into sex and a lack of access to justice in rape cases. The survey came after the #MeToo campaign went viral last year, with thousands of women using the social media movement to share stories of sexual harassment or abuse.
Frankly, most places are relatively “dangerous” if you’re not cautious; most places are “safe” if you’re aware of your surroundings, respectful and friendly. This spectrum of what’s possible is true, no matter where you are or where you’re going.
I’m tired of this narrative women and solo travelers should be scared all of the time. Observant, yes of course. Fearful? No, not every waking moment.
I sit on the subway alone; I go grocery shopping alone; I run errands alone… I wonder why traveling alone is any different.
There’s a risk to every part of our lives; nothing is a safe guarantee, but when has fear ever been a good explanation to live a sheltered life?
It does no good to think the world as an evil, scary place.
I get it’s hard to ignore the headlines. Injustice will always enrage me.
Most recently, Grace Millane, a 22-year-old British backpacker, was killed in New Zealand. Police believe they have the man responsible for the senseless killing.
I write this because headlines and incidents like these are disturbing and cruel and senseless and unjust. Not only because innocent life is taken, but also it creates a chilling, ripple effect.
But this story isn’t enough for us all to stay home, forever.
This piece by Georgia Dent says what we need to read and realize: Backpacking did not kill Grace Millane.
“Before they ask, why would a man kill a 22-year-old woman, they ask, why was she backpacking alone? Was she drinking? Had she used a dating app? Why was she out late? Backpacking did not kill Grace Millane. Nor did traveling alone, Tinder, alcohol or going out late.
A person killed Grace Millane and at this stage, the person most likely is the 26-year-old man who is being held in custody.”
This piece by Anna Heledd says it perfectly:
“It seems some people have been more interested in debating why women shouldn’t travel by themselves, rather than why someone would choose to kill a young woman.”
You’re statistically more likely to be assaulted by someone you know, rather than a stranger. A woman is most at risk in her own home: not in dark alleys or nightclubs. Not parks after dark or cabs.
The truth is, “stranger danger” stories are actually outnumbered by incidents where the perpetrators know the victims. Take domestic violence, for example. Take acquaintance rape, which happens all too often and women are sharing those stories with the #MeToo movement.
Statistically, a majority of victims know their perpetrators.
Solo travel doesn’t suddenly become easy; it does, however, become more familiar with the practice.
My solo travels are the most impactful, fulfilling, and rewarding adventures I have pursued.
I felt like I met myself, got to know myself, the most in Costa Rica, in Bermuda, in Mexico: the essence of who I am is so starry-eyed, grateful, and content. I didn’t know it was that possible to feel at ease, embracing the journey. At home, there are deadlines to meet, errands to run, people to see.
When I’m traveling alone, social media apps are deleted. My phone is only used to take photos, when appropriate. (It drives me nuts when people are always live-posting on Snapchat and Instagram, because it ruins the moment.)
My mind is present and quiet when I’m alone and wading through the initial uncomfortable silence and discomfort until I become my own company.
The liberation is in knowing what you need most, is not always a person, a place, or a thing. Instead, what I need the most on any road, is simply myself.
[tweetshare tweet=”Women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves.” — Anne Morrow Lindbergh” username=”myadventuresnow”]
The freedom traveling solo afforded me, the way it helped my confidence grow, and all of the new friends I made were huge benefits that wouldn’t have happened if I traveled with others and had comfortable distractions.
I never thought I’d prefer going alone. But once you learn how to find your own way, you’re free. You wait for no one and you come and go when you want.
And this is why certain stories won’t stop me. And this is why I’ll always go.
I hope you’ll go too — and then write all about it.
