Shecoria | Essays on Becoming

For a long time, I thought solo travel was something people did because they didn’t have another option.

Maybe your friends couldn’t get time off work.

Maybe your partner wasn’t interested.

Maybe you were tired of waiting for everyone else’s schedules to line up.

Solo travel always felt like the backup plan.

Now I think we’ve been thinking about it all wrong.

I don’t think solo travel is what you do when no one else can come.

I think it’s something every person should intentionally choose at least once, even if they have incredible people to travel with.

Not because it’s better.

Because it gives you something completely different.

I realized that by accident.

I had a layover in Denver on my way home. While I was still on the plane, I decided to reschedule my second flight and stay until Friday morning.

It wasn’t some lifelong dream trip.

I didn’t have a list of attractions saved.

I hadn’t watched a dozen TikToks about hidden gems.

I simply decided that instead of rushing home, I’d give myself another day.

My first instinct after landing was to start planning.

I opened my phone ready to build an itinerary from scratch. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t wasting my money by staying another night.

Instead, I closed my phone.

I decided to let the city surprise me.

The next morning I found myself sitting at breakfast wondering what I should do first.

Then I caught myself.

Why did I have to do anything first?

I could finish breakfast.

I could take the bus somewhere random.

I could walk until something caught my attention.

For someone who loves planning, that felt strangely uncomfortable.

But it also felt freeing.

I spent the day wandering neighborhoods, riding public transportation, stopping whenever something looked interesting, and sitting in coffee shops longer than I normally would.

Nothing about the day would have looked impressive on an itinerary.

It also became one of the most relaxing trips I’ve had all year.

The biggest surprise wasn’t Denver.

It was what traveling alone revealed about me.

I’ve realized that I spend so much of my life preparing for what’s next.

The next semester.

The next job.

The next milestone.

The next trip.

Even while I was traveling, I kept asking myself what came next instead of noticing where I already was.

Traveling alone interrupted that habit.

There wasn’t another person asking where we should eat.

There wasn’t a schedule to negotiate.

There wasn’t a conversation pulling my attention away from the city around me.

For one day, the only question I had to answer was:

What do I actually want to do?

I think that’s a question many of us don’t ask ourselves often enough.

One of my favorite moments happened back at the hostel.

I’ve stayed in hostels before, but always with other people.

This time I sat in the common room without pretending to be busy on my phone.

Normally, I think I reach for my phone because it feels safer. Looking occupied somehow feels less vulnerable than simply sitting by yourself.

But nobody cared.

People came and went.

Some conversations happened naturally.

Some didn’t.

And I realized something I wish more people experienced.

Being alone doesn’t automatically make you lonely.

Sometimes it just makes you present.

I also wonder if women especially don’t give ourselves enough opportunities to experience that feeling.

We hear important conversations about staying safe, and those conversations matter. But alongside them, many of us also absorb quieter expectations. Don’t eat alone. Don’t travel alone. Don’t go somewhere if nobody else wants to go. Always have a reason.

I’m not suggesting those concerns disappear.

I’m suggesting we might be missing something when we only see solitude as a last resort instead of an intentional choice.

Solo travel isn’t valuable because you prove you can do everything yourself.

It’s valuable because it gives you uninterrupted time with your own thoughts.

You notice what genuinely interests you.

You discover your own pace.

You learn that you don’t have to fill every quiet moment with distraction.

Most importantly, you realize that your own company can actually be enough.

I still love traveling with other people.

Some cities deserve the energy of sharing meals, laughing over missed trains, and collecting stories together.

Those trips teach you about your relationships.

Solo travel teaches you about yourself.

They aren’t competing experiences.

They’re different ones.

I don’t think everyone should always travel alone.

I do think everyone should choose it at least once.

Not because they have to.

Because somewhere between getting on the wrong bus, lingering over breakfast, wandering without a destination, and sitting quietly in a hostel common room, you might realize that you’ve spent a lot of your life preparing for the next moment instead of fully inhabiting the one you’re already in.

And sometimes the best thing a trip can give you isn’t another attraction.

Sometimes it simply reminds you that you are good company.