Why Traveling Alone Will Make You Feel Better Than Ever

The internet tells me that Albert Einstein said, "The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don't know."

Traveling is a lot like learning—the more I do it, the more I realize how few places I've been. Which is actually the great thing about it, because there's always somewhere else to go.

I've only traveled by myself twice, and just once internationally to Stockholm. Yet those experiences are some of the best I've had, not just travel-speaking, but in my life overall. In many ways, I've never felt less alone. I chose to be where I was with no social pressure to be with anyone, anywhere. I was never embarrassed or afraid. I felt like I was completely immersed in my surroundings, simply because I didn't have a companion to talk to. I didn’t have any negative expectations, but I was surprised at how much I loved the compounded sense of confidence and happiness I felt.

I don't need to go on a trip alone to “find myself.” I guess I could try and do that with a Moleskine, a cortado, and some weepy Bon Iver in my hometown coffee joint. Rather, I want to find the noise, find the people, find the food, find the style. Where is there live music? I want to go there. Is there a long line of locals at a particular cafe? I want to go there. (Or “I want to go to there.” - Liz Lemon.)

In Stockholm, I wanted to find the classical art and the weird art, the quiet cafes, the vintage, the grunge, and the shops that display that trademark Scandinavian order. The monuments and memorials, the fried herring cart and the city’s best cinnamon cardamom buns, the people making things, the parks full of tulips, the quiet, secluded paths that hug the sea, the cathedrals and castles, the vistas. And maybe that’s the answer to self-discovery: reaching and venturing so far outside yourself that you find more than you dreamed.

I want to partake in and share joy. It's hard to remember while sailing in the Stockholm archipelago for instance, with the salt air whipping my hair and the verdant islands sailing horizontally, gently, smoothly across my peripheral vision, that the world can be a terrible place. Yet that's usually what we hear about the most. You don't see headlines like "Man spreads fresh salted butter on flaky croissant, cries" or "Woman gasps at Monet's Rouen Cathedral painting."

OK, so you don't read stories like these because they lack newsworthiness, but the point is, this is the world, or rather these details comprise the world, and what a sad waste to not a) partake in these riches and then b) share them with others. I want to immerse myself and then exude joy; I want to let others know these experiences are worth pursuing. And because of these experiences, you will connect with those who've gone to the same places, learn from others who've been elsewhere, and maybe even motivate someone to go for the first time.

Several years ago I wrote that all the people in airports made me feel small as a person and little in purpose. Maybe this is because I’m older now, but I didn’t feel like that in Stockholm. Instead I found perspective, a solace in the volume of people riding by in the bike lanes or standing next to me on the tram. I found a confidence that I am exactly who I’m supposed to be, that there are no errors in the code of my DNA.

The sheer number of people in the world is humbling, amazing, motivating. I don’t want to withdraw into myself and constantly wonder if I’m good, cool, nice, smart, fill-in-the-blank enough. Because doing that blurs your surroundings and smudges the multitudes of people passing you by, which translates into multitudes of missed opportunities and details. I’m special in that I need to just be, but I’m also not special in that I’m human and bad things will definitely happen to me over and over again the rest of my life, and I’m also subject to the same emotions and feelings and problems as others. And that’s the lesson and the solace that I found in the people passing me by: I need to think of myself less, and we’re all in this together.

Ultimately, while I 100% encourage solo travel, I think the most important thing I can say to anyone is this: you can have the same sense of wonder anywhere, whether or not you’re alone and whether you’re in Stockholm or just down the road. You don’t have to take a grand journey to find details: a leaf, a brush stroke, a sip, a crumb, a stained-glass windowpane, a ray in a sunrise. Practice observation; don’t miss a beat. You’ll find yourself a more grateful person because you’ll try and count the wonders around you, but you’ll lose track—they’re infinite.