Solo Trippin

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self. — May Sarton

When asked what my biggest fear is, I always promptly answer; loneliness. The type of loneliness where you are in a crowded room but feel invisible. It was in high school I first experienced loneliness, the kind that could drive someone to the darkest corners of their mind. Maybe it was therapy, or maybe it was understanding my fear, but I actively worked on being alone. I no longer wanted to sit somewhere and feel invisible. I didn’t want to feel like I needed friends to experience or enjoy things. That’s how my solo Friday date nights started.

In high school, I made it a point to purely just spend Fridays doing what I wanted to do. This meant not doing schoolwork, and it definitely meant not making plans with other people. Maybe I did that because I wanted to tell myself I was choosing not to have Friday plans, not because I didn’t have anyone to hang out with or anything to do. Well, this small tradition turned into one of the best self-care practices I have in my life today.

In college, Friday nights became solo date nights. Every Friday, I took myself out to dinner. It could be a small cafe or a big restaurant. It didn’t matter, but it was an intentional act. Friday night I’d pick a restaurant or food place and then I would come home and color while watching my favorite tv shows or while listening to music. It started off as a simple intentional action, but it slowly became a very empowering act for me. It was me embracing my solitude and not my loneliness. Soon after, one of my roommates in college noticed my Friday night ritual and would join me for dinners, and those nights hold some of my favorite memories from college. What started as dinners, turned into museum trips, farmer markets, movies, shows, hikes, etc. Doing things by myself became a norm, not because I didn’t have anyone to invite but because solitude became comforting for me. Maybe that's what lonely people say, but there is power in being able to do things by yourself. A while back I came across a quote “you come into the world alone and you leave the world alone”. Maybe I misinterpreted this but I read it and I figured in that case, why not get comfortable doing things alone. So this year when I turned 24, the only way I wanted to spend it was going on a solo trip. I had gone on plenty of solo adventures, but I had not gone on an overnight solo trip. This sparked my trip to Pismo in May.

The plan was simple, book a pleasant hotel, drive to Pismo, enjoy myself and embrace whatever comes my way. So I got a nice hotel room with a beautiful ocean view and drove my parent’s Lexus for three hours to Pismo. At Pismo, I took long walks on the beach, feeling the warm water wash over my feet. I collected seashells and sand dollars like a little child. I tried fish n chips for the first time, which didn’t go too well, so I’ll have to give that another try at some point. I walked to different viewpoints and took lots of pictures. I got lunch at Ventana Grill, the popular sea-side restaurant. I had a pleasant conversation with the server. I explored the pier and the tourist stores. I bought some stickers and postcards. I enjoyed some ice cream at the pier. I listened to some live music at my hotel while I painted. I read a book. I blew bubbles. I soaked in the hot tub. I explored the sand dunes. I caught multiple sunsets. I exchanged smiles with hotel guests. I dressed up and put on makeup. I collected memories that reminded me how much life offers me.

This trip was pivotal for me because I was not in a good place with COVID, post-grad anxiety, and my own mental health. I had resolutely convinced myself that I was not good enough and that I did not matter. I picked apart everything about myself. I don’t write this to be dramatic, but to be honest with myself about where I was. I hated the way I looked; I hated the way I cared; I hated the way I thought, and I hated I was “broken”. Yet this trip forced me to get out of my head. Right before this trip, I bought my first swimsuit in years, a huge purchase for me. And the truth is I looked great in the one piece I got. On the trip, I forced myself to focus on the present. I took every day as a blank page. I didn’t judge myself for resting in the room, or just sitting on a bench. On this trip, I posted a lot of my adventures on social media, a very unusual move for me. I don’t post on social media because I have a strong inner voice that tells me that no one cares what I am up to. The voice reminds me I am not pretty enough to post pictures of myself. She reminds me that my actions, thoughts, and experiences are insignificant. I documented that trip for myself, but I also allowed myself to share the trip. I have this dangerous habit of assuming that I’m insignificant. I know it’s past trauma, and a deep-rooted fear of mine, but the trip reminded me how powerful my mind is in controlling me and holding me back from enjoying my life. I am not saying mental health disorders are a choice, because trust me, those of us with mental health issues would not choose this on even on our least favorite people. However, it reminded me despite my mental health disorder, I could capitalize on joyful memories and allow myself to be happy.

This simple, bold trip led to many reminders that I did not expect. It reminded me I could dress up. It reminded me I am beautiful, not just externally, but also internally. It reminded me that my introspection and overactive mind is more of a strength than the weakness I view it as. It reminded me that my body is incredible. Coincidentally, the book I was reading on that trip, Elanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman had a beautiful passage reminding me about this.

“I looked at myself again. I was healthy and my body was strong. I had a brain that worked fine… I had a hair, ears, eyes and a mouth. I was a human woman, no more and no less.” — Elanor Oliphant

A fitting passage to read as I was slowly gaining my self-confidence back. A powerful reminder, as I was working on loving myself again and being kinder to my body. This trip reminded me to stop worrying about what everyone thought. It reminded me I matter and what I choose to share could actually unexpectedly make someone smile. It reminded me nature is powerful in both its beauty and its strength. It reminded me I am allowed to be happy. It reminded me I deserve all the space that I take up. Along with crucial reminders, I also learned new things about myself.

I learned that my current body is strong and beautiful. I learned that my current body can be sexy. I learned I am more confident than I give myself credit for. I learned I actually enjoy traveling. I learned I am great at pushing myself out of my comfort zone, but not overdoing it. I learned I am an over-packer like my mom. I learned it is not embarrassing to do simple innocent activities like collecting seashells, blowing bubbles, or ordering off the kids' menu. I learned I love the little things, and it's what invigorates me, like stopping to listen to the jazz player on the pier, admiring the way the flowers grow, watching the way the birds retreat from the waves. I learned I love the ocean more than I thought. I learned hot tub soaks under the night sky can be magical. I learned that my parent’s Lexus has a sunroof. I learned I should only wear flip-flops to the beach. I learned solo trips can ground the soul.

I expected to feel refreshed after this trip, but I didn’t expect to be so hopeful and excited. Since I’ve been back from this trip, I have used that same energy to push myself to reconnect with people, explore new places, and love myself a little more. If you have never leaned into solo activities or a solo trip, I hope this gets you thinking about embracing your solitude.