Earlier this month, I traveled to Puerto Rico for my first solo trip. I booked a flight. I booked an Airbnb and not much else, which is exactly what I wanted.
Why I Decided to Take a Solo Trip
I wanted needed (with a capital N) a vacation, but I didn’t want the fuss of planning a trip. I didn’t want to create an itinerary or follow a schedule. And I definitely didn’t want to make any decisions.
All I wanted was to be.
To be alone with my thoughts. To write. To create. To take time. To decompress from all that had been weighing me down.
But what I wanted more than anything was to get back to me. I know that sounds weird, but have you ever thought of how much you’re pulled daily? No, seriously, think about it.
I’ll wait.
I don’t know about you, but it seemed like everyone (and everything) needed my attention right then and there. For once, I needed to NOT be needed.
Not as a wife. Not as a friend. Not as a family member. Not as a co-worker. Not as a n y t h i n g.
How I Spent My Time During My First Solo Trip
That’s why I spent my days at the beach. With a book to read and one to jot down my thoughts, I felt lighter. I felt calmer and I felt relieved, which is more than I can say for the days leading up to the trip.
I’d be lying if I told you that the booking process was as easy as book it and done; it wasn’t. I hesitated, doubted myself, and gave up several times when trying to figure out where I wanted to go. If I’m being honest with myself, that was because of my fear of the unknown.
Being in a relationship means you have a built-in travel partner. Up until that point, I never had to answer the questions that made me pause before hitting submit. I wondered, “How am I going to get around the island? Will I feel safe walking around? What matters most to me: amenities or location?”
They were hard to answer because they forced me to commit to myself and the purpose of this solo trip. Like committing to someone, it required me to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.
What I Learned About Growth During the Solo Trip
But the lesson that made the most impact came on my last day on the island.
When the sun peeked into the curtains of my studio and crashing waves hitting the shore could be heard outside my window, I woke up early for one more dip. I strapped my beach chair on my back and filled a small lunch bag with the days essentials. After sun bathing for a bit, I strode into the water watching out for large objects on the ocean bed. I let the warm water wash over my neck and shoulders. And without noticing, I realized that I was testing myself to see how far out in the water I could go.
You should know that as a Black girl from Philly, all forms of water have always been a no no. To make matters worst, I’m not the strongest swimmer. Once, during a family vacation, I almost drowned at a water park.
But there I was in the Caribbean ocean stretching out my left leg to make sure the ocean floor didn’t dip. When it felt safe, I’d slide my right leg beside it and stand up straight to see where the water line was on my body. I’d let the waves crash into me to see if I was comfortable being in that spot and if I could withstand a hit from a big wave. Then, I’d repeat this motion over and over again.
As I stood there, it dawned on me that you’ve got to be willing to stretch a little to grow. You can’t be as still as a statue in the ocean (or in life). You’ve got to go with the flow and rise right along with the currents.
How This Solo Trip Changed Me
For me, this trip was a way to stretch me despite my fear of the unknown. It was my way of stretching towards a lifestyle (and mindset) that makes myself AND my mental health a priority. It was also a way for me to stretch past expectations from myself and from others.
This solo trip taught me that growth is hard to achieve without giving of yourself. All it takes is one little step at a time, which become bigger ones in the long run. Yes, it’s scary, but I’m learning, that it’s definitely worth it.
