- My first solo trip helped me overcome my fear of being alone.
- I was scared of making decisions and feeling lonely but I pushed myself out of my comfort zone.
The first time I hitchhiked I was at a bus stop on Elba Island, located just off of Italy's northwestern coast.
My patience and water were long gone, I had no cell service, and I'd spent two hours for any sign of the bus that could take me back to the island's main town Portoferraio. There were no people around.
When I heard the familiar crunch of tires on gravel I did something I never thought I'd ever do — I stuck my thumb out into the road. It was risky, but by the grace of the Italian gods, I was picked up by a sympathetic woman who taught me two things: The kindness of strangers exists and buses in Italy won't always follow their schedules.
I was a few weeks into my first solo trip ever, fresh off the heels of a terrible breakup. I was sad, angry, broken, exhilarated, and a complete cliche.
But I was doing something that scared the living daylight out of me, and admittedly had, for most of my life – I was being alone.
I'd never really thought about how much I feared being alone
The fear of being alone is not something I had ever considered "a thing." Snakes, spiders, tornadoes, sure. But solitude, not so much.
Solo travel was especially daunting — I was afraid I'd be faced with important or scary decisions that I couldn't make, or I'd get so bored and lonely that my thoughts would get the best of me.
Perhaps my fears stemmed from being overprotected as a child or being in back-to-back long-term relationships over the span of 14 years that meant I didn't have to do most things alone. I could hack it on a trip to the grocery store or a run in the park, but the thought of dining on my own in a restaurant, hiking by myself, spending a weekend alone, or traveling abroad solo gave me anxiety.
Yet, now I was doing all of these on a five-week summer solo trip. I was getting lost on trains in Italy, asking for directions using the few Italian words I knew, hiking on my own in Switzerland, and scarfing a burger and beer as a solo diner straight afterward.
I was making friends along the way and learning that, in being alone, I had opened myself up to a whole new world of making connections.
My solo travels weren't perfect — and I did get lonely — but I felt victorious by the time I returned home
Traveling solo was pretty far from glamorous and my trip had plenty of loneliness, fear, sadness, and boredom. But it was also brightened by the kindness of everyone I met along the way.
In Italy, a passerby helped me clean all of my groceries off of the street when my bike broke. In Switzerland, I was losing motivation on a lengthy hike when I befriended a nice couple who ventured the remainder of the trail with me, patient with my pace.
I found I really liked having my own agenda, too. I felt triumphant when I figured things out in tough situations and pushed myself out of my comfort zone. Over the course of my adventure, I realized I could trust myself — I had a gut instinct that would kick in. I could read a book while eating at a table for one and that was plenty of company.
On the last day of my trip, I joined a guided canyoning tour in the Swiss Alps filled with rappelling and jumping that would test my fear of heights. I'd already challenged one fear by tackling the trip alone, why not put another to the test?
Hooked into a harness, and shaking with nerves, I stood unsure about rappeling into the canyon where a bunch of people I'd only just met were waiting for me 165 feet below. I stood frozen in fear until I heard enthusiastic cheering. I began to make moves, concentrating on one step at a time and the encouragement of strangers.
When I planted my feet on the canyon floor, it felt a lot like victory.