if you’re scared to take that solo trip, go anyways.
A week before my first solo international trip, I told myself I wasn’t going to go.
I was at work—third double in a row, completely in the weeds (real servers know), ready to give up.
My thoughts were all over the place:
“Table 331 needs ranch. 327 needs a water refill… what did 322 order? Only 7 more days until you’re outta here.”
And then it hit me…
Only 7 more days until I was flying to Central America to spend 3 weeks alone.
What the hell was I doing?
Who did I think I was?
Not only was this my first solo international trip, it was the first time I was even using my passport. I’d been on a few cruises, been to Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands—but this?
This was different.
I really got my passport in the mail and said,
“I’m outta here… by myself.”
And I’m so glad I did.
I would say the trip really started the moment I was on the way to the airport.
My grandparents—the sweetest people in the world and honestly my favorite people—insisted on taking me.
As soon as they picked me up, it felt like I was in a movie. From the moment my Papa started loading my luggage into the car, everything slowed down. I was staring out the window the whole ride, music playing in the background, just… processing it all.
My anxiety was at an all-time high.
When we got to the airport, it was chaotic—but I had splurged and bought myself a first-class ticket, so they let us skip to the front of the line.
And somehow, that made everything feel even more real.
But hugging my daughter goodbye… that’s when it really hit me.
“Bitch… you really out here.”
At that point, I was still this close to saying, “Never mind, let’s go home.”
But I didn’t.
I grabbed my pink carry-ons and rolled through that airport like I was headed to Sunday brunch.
Beast mode activated.
The airport and the flight were honestly a blur.
I had a few glasses of wine before boarding—and did I mention I was flying first class? So yes… free wine on the plane too.
I don’t really take medication, but on that flight I was wishing I had something to calm me down because I was sweating and freaking out.
Quietly though. No one knew.
On the outside, I looked like I had it all together—fresh braids, a super cute pink two-piece, full boss mode.
On the inside?
I was fighting for my life.
At some point the wine kicked in and I fell asleep, but I woke up when the captain turned on the seatbelt sign.
That meant two things to me:
We were about to land.
And this was really happening.
I looked out the window and saw nothing but blue skies and even bluer water…
And that’s when I broke.
I started crying. Like really crying.
I couldn’t believe that months of planning and weeks of overthinking had actually brought me here.
I was in paradise—planned by me, for me, with only me.
And just like that, all the fear left my body.
In that moment, I felt brand new.
Like a whole new version of me had arrived.
And for the first time…
I was ready for anything.
From the moment I stepped off the plane and felt the warm air hit me, I knew I made the right choice.
I won’t go into too much detail about the trip (I’m saving that for another blog), but just know…
I had a time.
But what made this trip so special wasn’t just where I went—it was the fact that I did it alone.
The first reason, and the most important to me, is how much I learned about myself.
I did things I was scared to do. I spent real time alone—like actually alone.
My first few days were on a remote island with barely any people and barely any service. It was just me, my thoughts, and a whole lot of quiet.
And in that quiet, I had time to really think about my life.
I’ve had moments like that before—like my first mini solo trip to Vegas, when I jumped out of a plane over the Grand Canyon and decided right then to leave a toxic relationship.
So this kind of clarity?
It’s real.
The second reason was the freedom.
When you travel solo, you move on your own time, your own budget, your own energy. You don’t have to worry about anyone else’s wants, needs, or schedule.
I had a full itinerary planned, and I can’t even tell you how many times it changed.
I stayed in some cities longer because I loved them.
I left others early because something better came along.
And the best part?
It didn’t matter.
Solo travel isn’t lonely—it’s power.
It’s learning yourself, trusting yourself, and realizing you don’t need anyone else to start living your life.
If you’re scared, that’s okay.
I was too.
But don’t let fear be the reason you stay stuck.
Go anyway.
Because the version of you on the other side of that trip?
She’s stronger.
More confident.
And she’s been waiting on you.
And trust me—
she’s worth it.
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