“People are supposed to travel with other people.”
My nana and I sitting in bumper to bumper, Friday evening, rush hour traffic on the lower level of the George Washington Bridge halfway between New York and New Jersey. We’re on the way to meet my mom for dinner. My 34th birthday dinner. In a few days, I’ll be boarding a flight to Portugal, by myself.
So, naturally, she has decided now is the time to once again collide, head on — into a conversation concerning the implications my pesky unwedded-ness has on her mental wellbeing.
I’ll give her this - it’s not as dramatic as her greatest hit “I’m only staying alive to go to your wedding” and it’s not as passive aggressive as the classic “did you hear Rita’s (not her real name) granddaughter got engaged?”
But despite my best boundary-making efforts and notes to self that I am 34-whole-years-old and therefore capable of making any and all of my own decisions — the declaration (and its subtext) sting. “People” in this scenario are, of course, me. And “other people” is the partner that – have you heard? I don’t have.
Resting just below the surface of my actual response: something along the lines of “you’re crazy” and “you realize we’re on a bridge and I’m driving, right?” there’s a part of me (a small part!!) that feels like maybe.. it’s true.
Solo travel trends and general common sense quickly dispel that notion. According to this totally legit seeming survey I found on the internet, searches for the term jumped 267% from December 2020 to April 2022. It goes on to state that over half of millennials (like me!) have experience with solo travel. People of both the partnered and un-partnered persuasion have partaken in the joy that is experiencing a new place all by themselves. So there.
Beyond the generational differences of opinion on the bridge that evening, I just felt like she didn’t — couldn’t — get why I would want to do anything, let alone travel internationally, by myself. Like Will Smith kind of once said, grandparents (or some grandparents, anyway) just don’t understand.
That week, sitting at a bar in Lisbon, I jotted down my very own solo travel pros/cons list.
They were:
PROS:
You can do whatever you want
You meet more people
Feels like an adventure
No other personalities besides your own to deal with
You can be selfish
It’s easier to get a table
Everyone talks to you
People call you brave (lol)
You get hit on more (!!)
CONS:
Lonely sometimes
You kind of resent groups
You feel weird sometimes
You look at your phone too much (maybe just me)
You can’t try as many things on the menu*
Has the potential to feel unsafe
You get hit on more (!!)
There’s no one to share things — good and bad — with**
This one was added just now but arguably most important*
This one is meant to be read in a Romanian accent**
As you may have gleaned from the pros list, for better or worse, this only child likes to be in charge. I like mapping out all the little restaurants I want to eat at and all the little (and big) things I want to see. In that sense, traveling by myself, where my priorities are the only priorities, is a thrill.
At the same time, just as Carrie Bradshaw (who went to Paris for a man, might I remind you) experienced in the Sex and the City finale, there are times, when you’re alone in a new place, where you walk by a restaurant teeming with four tops of friends and feel a pang of envy and homesickness.
My moments of loneliness were not marked by staring longingly at other people and their pals while I waited for my neglectful boyfriend to finish installing his little light fixtures at the museum but by wistful moments staring at my own loved ones’ – and some strangers – social media pages, a behavior I find troubling when I’m in the US and even more so when it means wasting brain space I could be using to absorb a new, beautiful place.
There was also the moment I longed for a dining partner for logistical purposes. It was during a meal that I tried to order an amount of food which was politely deemed as ill-advised by my lovely server to which I said – no!! And also, after barely finishing what I did end up ordering – yes.
But mostly, it was wonderful. I met so many nice people – like the girls in Porto who saw me eating solo and said “you’re alone? No, you’re not. You’re coming with us” Before toting me along to Galerias Paris where crowds of people spilled out into the street from the bars and drinks were approximately 1 euro a piece. I walked, I hiked, I saw cool shit (technical term), I ate more than my fair share of the tinned fish. I drank well, affordably, and often.
So the conversation on the bridge felt like all but a distant memory when, halfway through the trip, I called nana to check in. Now, just days later, she sang a remarkably different, unexpected tune.
“What you’re doing is amazing. I really admire you.”
The next day I was eating a $3 pork sandwich (!!) and still thinking about her sudden change of heart. I texted my mom to share the development. “I think deep down she understands because she was like that too when she was young,” she replied. “An independent gal.”
After that, it was a $3 pork sandwich mixed with the taste of silent, salty tears. Yum.
You don’t need a partner to start watching Game of Thrones or travel to places you want to go. Maybe you already knew that, but maybe not! Either way, sometimes I think it’s worth the reminder. Putting yourself out there alone — whether you’re in a relationship or not — can be a little daunting, sure (especially that last season ;) ) but so far, in my experience, it has always been worth it.
And so, nana will no doubt continue to lament on my love life. And I will no doubt continue to let it (sometimes) get under my skin. But now, I know one thing for sure — she does get it. She does get me. That’s what I’m choosing to hold on to.
Love you,
Jamie AF
You're amazing! Thanks for sharing your journey!
I am proud and honored to be your person! Forever and always, I remain Y#1F!