“After, like, 35, I think every woman can write a memoir with the same title, and that same title is ‘Not Exactly What I Had in Mind” -Elizabeth Gilbert on the Life Uncut Podcast
Someone once told me that the three most influential things in your life are:
1.) What you do
2.) Who you’re with
3.) Where you are
After losing 1 and 2, I decided to dig deep into 3.
Prelude:
The Breakup,
The Breakdown
& The Breakthrough
I carefully peeled the final Polaroid from the wall before tossing it into the lavender-scented trash bag—which did nothing against the reek of dismay that seeped throughout the entire apartment. What had once been my beloved, well-appointed sanctuary was now a clusterfuck of crap that I couldn’t care less about (minus my houseplants).
In a matter of two weeks, I had been fired from my job, broken-up with my boyfriend of three years, and thus, forced to vacate the apartment and move back in with my parents.
As I stripped away the illusion of love and success that I had unknowingly built around myself, I oscillated between a state of hurting and healing until they eventually became one and the same.
Long story short, I was—begrudgingly—back at first-world rock bottom. You see, it wasn’t the first time I had lost my job, relationship, and residence all at once. As you can imagine, it’s never a fun experience. 0 stars. You become a human rug, developing an unspoken bond with the floor. Water begins to taste like wine because you use the same glass to drink both. Once in a while, you find Cheetos in your hair. Needless to say, the comeback was always worth the setback. Exhausting? Yes. Slow and painful? You bet. Did I yell at the sky a lot? All the time. But in the end, it proved to be the best thing that could have ever happened to me.
This time was no different. In fact, it may have been life-saving. I have a hard time letting go. I’m loyal to a fault. And unfortunately, I overstayed an ugly situation. So, broken heart and deflated ego aside, this time, when I slumped back into the pit of despair, I was not alone. I had awareness. I had gratitude.
For the first time in my 30s, I was benched from the overrated game of adulting.
I was free.
After I unpacked my last box in my parents’ spare room, spent time with my family and friends, fluffed up my half-a-dozen decorative pillows on my bed, watered my plants, and felt like I had a safe place to call home again, I left.
Destiny is a direction. And ready or not, I had to go.
Till this day, I have no idea what came over me. My inner muse, God, the universe—something—guided my hand to click on a few boxes that Sunday night. And by Tuesday, I was on a plane to Edinburgh, Scotland, with a one-way ticket in hand.
SIDE NOTE: I never saw myself as a traveller—let alone a solo traveller. I never had any particular interest in it and therefore, had only ever been to a handful of places to attend family-related events (i.e., weddings, funerals, reunions, etc.). I always figured that I would travel later on in my life when I had a comfortable amount of money saved up. Thank God for growth.
Like every other denizen of the modern world, I too am guilty of partaking in a doom-scrolling session now and then, and I’m always pleasantly surprised when I come across something that actually manages to stick the landing in my grey matter. When my evening flight finally took off, I remember thinking back to a poem that I came across on one such occasion:
If I Had Three Lives
If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing – a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books – lots of books, and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I’d go to art films, farmers’ markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I did him. I’d walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I’d wonder sometimes
if I’d ever find you.
-Sarah Russell
The greatest act of love I could give myself was the act of doing something different. I needed to find my courage—I couldn’t wait for my next life to become what I might have been. I had to do it now.
SPOILER ALERT: Travelling to Europe did not solve all my problems nor did it heal all my wounds. In fact, when I came back from my trip, that’s when the REAL WORK began. HOWEVER, it taught me some invaluable lessons, such as:
1.) Discomfort is the gateway to being in your element.
2.) Distancing yourself from family and culture is the key to absolute freedom.
3.) Never stop dancing.
Of course, that’s not all I got out of my trip.
Love is Everywhere
I never realized how much of myself I had dedicated to my relationships until I was alone, and thus, the only person I could give to was myself. The depth of peace one experiences when the only person you need to please is yourself is truly astounding. Don’t get me wrong—I find great happiness in seeing others happy, but at some point, it’s easy to lose yourself to the extent that you forget what once brought you joy. Ironically, it is often through connections with people outside your usual social circles that you can learn more about yourself and what you truly want in life.
As the French poet Antoine de Saint-Exupéry says:
“Il n’est qu’un luxe véritable, et c’est celui des relations humaines.”
“There is only one true luxury, and that is that of human relations.”
The Sisterhood
From the ashes she became
Before she became fire, she was water
Quenching the thirst of every dying creature
She gave and gave
until she turned from sea to desert
but, instead of dying of the heart, the sadness, the heartache
she took all the pain and from her own ashes
she became fire.
-Nikita Gill
One of my greatest joys as a solo female traveller was meeting another solo female traveller. There is an immediate, unspoken acknowledgement of understanding and pride. Each of us, in some way, had stepped outside our comfort zone and harnessed our courage. And despite all the self-doubt and the million ways we ruminated that it could all go wrong, we somehow managed to survive (and thrive)!
- Post-bad breakup
- Tossed life plans
- Thinning social circles that can’t relate to what you’re going through
- Desire to detach from the old
- Need to connect with the new
It was through these shared moments with my fellow solo female travelers that I discovered an invaluable, affirming camaraderie—the understanding that I was not, in fact, alone in my reinvention.
I was especially shocked by how every woman I met within my age group had such a similar story to me.
The Sweet Spot
“I’ve been unhappy for a very long time.” The words slipped out so easily that I didn’t even feel them leave my mouth. It was a chilly winter night in Berlin, and I was leaning against a stone railing, looking out onto the river, just outside one of the gorgeous museums on Museum Island. My newfound guy friend—we’ll call him Emery—stood next to me, rolling a cigarette between his slightly trembling hands. He was from Türkiye and wasn’t used to the cold weather. I poured my heart out to him for hours, while we drank beer and looked over that beautiful riverfront.
As we walked back to my hostel, the cold was beginning to seep into my bones. Emery noticed this before I did, and without a word, he gently took my hand and tucked it into his coat pocket.
Out of all the romantic gestures I’ve received throughout my trip—and there were some epic ones, believe me—this simple, sweet act is one that I’ve taken the greatest pleasure in thinking back to the most, along with the rest of the time we spent together.
We held hands all the way back to my hostel, where we sat up in my room and talked until 4 in the morning—a habit that we unconsciously developed in the three days that we spent together.
There was nothing sexually romantic between us (though there was undoubtedly some attraction), but we existed in what I can only describe as ‘The Sweet Spot.’ Neither of us felt the need to take things further, and there was something profoundly comforting in that.
When you find a connection in the temporal space of travel, the pull can sometimes be so strong that you don’t hold anything back. I share this story because, if there’s one type of male relationship I would actively seek out on my travels again (if I was single), it’s this type—one that exists without expectations, where you can speak your mind freely, without the fear or care of being judged. Not too crazy, not too fast, and not too drunk, but gentle and unassuming, like a date where the only intention is simply to be present. There is no urgency, no need to ask a thousand questions. Just a space where you can speak your mind to someone you are irrevocably drawn to.
I’ve never subscribed to the idea that: “In order to get over someone, you have to get under someone.” To me, true healing takes time. There’s no getting around it. You have to put in the patience (not just the work) to process, reflect, and grow beyond the weight of a past connection.
Just coming out of a relationship, I was in no way, shape, or form ready for anything too intense. (Not to say that anything intense did or didn’t happen, just that if it did, I genuinely wasn’t looking for it. Make of that what you will 😉)
I won’t lie though. A good kisser here and there doesn’t hurt. And if there’s one thing that European guys know how to do better than their North American counterparts…it’s kiss (sorry not sorry).
If you happen to find this sort of connection where the flirting is enjoyably mild, boundaries are respected, and the silences feel just as meaningful as when you talk, just know that you’ve found something truly wonderful. Because this, my gurlies, is ‘The Sweet Spot.’
Wherever You Go, Go with All Your Heart
Don’t Just be a Tourist.
Be an Adventurer. Be an Explorer. Be a Wanderer. Be an Artist. Be a Poet. Be a Seeker. Be a Student. Be a Teacher. Be a Lover. Be a Stranger. Be a Friend.
Don’t just do things for the ‘gram’. Listen carefully. Look obsessively. Talk to the people. Engage with the culture. Immerse yourself in the myths, legends, and histories, as if they were your own. Go to local meetups. Step outside of your comfort zone every chance you get. Be brave. Be bold. Be you.
And finally, at the very least, nail down these three words in the local language: “Hello,” “Thank you,” and “Goodbye.” ♥
FULL DISCLOSURE: Here are all the cities I visited during my 2-month Eurotrip:
Edinburgh (Scotland), Sofia (Bulgaria), Berlin (Germany), Munich (Germany), Roma (Italy), Napoli (Italy), and Tropea (Italy).
HOLD MY HAPPY 