Why Traveling Alone is Amazing

After my first time to South America, my eyes were opened wide to the world of long term traveling. I remember thinking spending 6 weeks in Colombia was a long time, shortly realizing more than half the people I met were traveling for long extended periods of time, some even for over a year. What I thought was a space limited to men and people that were older, I began meeting lots of solo girl travelers, one just turning 18 during her trip.

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Even after meeting these girls, a million doubts came into my mind. Was I social enough to travel alone? Did I have the stamina to live out of a backpack for more than a couple of weeks? Would I have the street smarts? Would I be safe?

But before I knew it, I was 22, just finished college and bought a one way ticket to Ecuador. I had no real plan or connections in any countries and shortly realized that was the absolute best plan. 

Despite the deep pit in my stomach as I landed in Quito, I pushed those feelings aside and crawled into the first of many bunk beds. Within a few hours of the next day, I went on a city walking tour and quickly met a group of friends, the first of many during my three month trip. 

What you realize is everyone is looking to make friends and the chit chat in hostel becomes effortless. Soon before you know it, you’ll actually be dreading talking to people about how long you’ve been traveling, where you’re going, and your favorite place. 

So I realized, yes, despite being a naturally an introverted person, socializing while traveling comes too easily. You can become best friends with a person within an hour. I became so comfortable with adding myself to people’s plans, inviting others to mine, and spending hours with people I just met in the most beautiful places.

As time went on, my backpack molded to my body, I knew every piece of fabric within it, and everyday I played tetris trying to refit my belongings into the decreased space with my souvenir splurges. I became used to my hiking boots clacking along the backpack, wearing the same stained t-shirt seriously everyday, and wondering how my pack seemed to increase in weight with each use. I got used to falling asleep with 15 other people in the same room, and thinking a 5 hour bus was short. I realized as my wallet got slimmer and slimmer, the sacred place in my stomach for street food. The stamina came and went, but the routine of traveling became so normal, I actually feared returning back to regular life.

Probably the best outcome of my trip was the crazy amount of confidence I gained. I became a Spanish speaking wizard, could get myself out of any situation, and wasn’t robbed once, which heavily contrasted my first trip to South America. I never felt unsafe as a woman and only had general annoyances, annoyances that happen in the US, so it wasn’t especially bad internationally. I felt like a bad ass being alone, proudly telling people, Yes, I’m on my own, and no, I don’t need your help. I can carry my bags by myself, I can do a backpacking trip, I can keep track of my things, all ALONE. 

Traveling by myself was the best graduation gift I could ever give myself. I met so many amazing people, did the craziest adventures of my life, and survived all situations unscathed. 

Truly the only bad part about traveling is coming home.