by Brielle Diskin
This is the third article in a four-part series entitled “Postcards From the Edge,” as part of our April/May Online Issue.
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Fallo da solo = Go It Alone.
Imagine yourself standing at the peak of one of those over dramatic mountains that overlook oversaturated sunsets that you’d only find in a Nature Valley commercial. You are staring out at the vast universe, and suddenly the constant churnings of your mind are silenced by a resurgence of freedom and a newfound perspective of the world beneath you. This feeling is the feeling I have been chasing all semester. It is a feeling I can only truly feel when I am alone.
After exploring a new part of the world for the past four months in a way I never thought possible, the only advice I have for anyone is to at some point in your life, please travel alone.
Whether it is an hour long road trip to a hiking trail upstate, a weekend getaway to a beach town along the west coast or a backpacking trip across South America, go somewhere and go it solo.
We are born—unless you’re a twin like myself—and die unaccompanied, but in a lifetime of perpetual loneliness, we barely get any moments where we are truly alone. Moments where we are not in a relationship, where we are not a friend, a partner, a mother, or a sibling. Moments, for once, where we are not entangled with anyone else but ourselves.
There is a certain level of experience and education you can only get when you are unaccompanied. The greatest lessons I’ve learned when traveling have been by myself, in my own moments of discomfort. I have learned the most about myself when I have pushed my limits.
Prior to the start of this semester, I was terrified. I was afraid that I would miss the comforts of home or that I wasn’t ready for the what the world had to offer me. But to my surprise, I learned that I was actually more comfortable in the discomfort of the unknown. I would not have learned this had I not been forced to look within myself.
A part of any journey is facing realities about yourself. When you travel alone it is just you and your luggage (which I’ve learned the hard way is always best left light). It is a special kind of alone time.
When you are alone traveling by train, bus, plane, horse and buggy, you become vulnerable. Airport security alone stripped me raw both emotionally and physically, and I’m white. For many others, it’s much, much worse.
I had never flown alone before this experience, so I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to pull through. The first time I flew alone I was going to Paris and planned to meet the girl I was traveling with at our AirBnB. Flying into Paris and figuring out the metro system was truly an experience. I thought being fluent in the New York subway system would give me the tools I needed to conquer this experience, but I think a fluency in French would have been more handy.
I was shaking the entire time in fear that I had gotten on the wrong train, or I had lost my ticket to exit. Of course I did neither. I was perfectly fine and so were my metro skills, thanks to Google Maps. And after giving myself a pat on the back mentally, I all but cried when I came in sight of the Eiffel Tower. It’s moments like this when the terrors of your fear dissipate via the relief and reward of finally arriving at your destination. Maybe I haven’t conquered life and maybe I never will, but I did this and that was enough for now.
On the solo journey, you are forcing yourself to gain social skills you might not have had to before. You might have to strike up some conversation with random strangers in a way a New Yorker just never would. Whether it’s for directions or the mere fascination for another human, that kind of confident curiosity that changes you for the better is not as likely to appear when you rely on the presence of familiar company.
One night I was sitting alone over some insanely amazing margherita pizza. (Did I mention Italy believes in personal pies?) While on a date with Mr. Margherita, I noticed a guy sitting by himself at end of the long table. The place was filling up and people in groups were looking for spots so I signaled him to sit with me. Turns out this guy was on a solo backpacking trip across Europe not by choice. Him and his girlfriend had planned this trip for months, and after a brutal breakup he decided not to waste the opportunity. I wasn’t sure if it was it was the melted fresh mozzarella or the story of another brave soul, but I left feeling inspired.
On the other hand, as a conscious woman, I am constantly made aware of the dangers of traveling alone. Whether it’s exploring the world or simply walking home at night, society is constantly reminding me to have my pepper spray ready. For women, traveling alone can often be frowned upon, made out to be terrifying, made out to misinform. And, while there are plenty of things to be worried about no matter who you are, what scares me the most is living my life in fear.
Some moments alone will be scary. Like when your cell plan stops working and you don’t know how to get back to your hostel, push through it. Trust yourself. You know what you want and you know how to get it. When you feel fear, observe it and then acknowledge it. The point is, you can not live your life in the confines of comfort no matter what may scare you.
It is within the closest, most intimate moments when we truly meet ourselves. Traveling is like meeting yourself for the first time on a blind date (the good ones) or like opening gifts you already snuck around for on Christmas morning: surprised, excited and overzealous all at once, before you realize that what was wrapped inside the box is just a better you.
When you are experiencing newness (in the purest sense of the word), it almost silences you. At home I felt so influenced by the nature of the universe or the harshness of reality. It is so easy to get offended by people or be disappointed when you don’t get the opportunities you worked hard for. Between the vulnerability of traveling and the beauty of the physical destinations all of that self-loathing and overthinking was silenced. I was proving to myself my own maturity, my own capability and my own sense of adventure.
Before departing for the semester, a family friend said to me that, if anything, I will simply just be “more of a person of the world” upon return. Traveling alone is what actually made me realize that they were right.