What Travel Has Taught Me About Myself

Once, while hiking in Arches National Park, I tripped over the same sandstone rock three times in ten minutes—yes, the same rock. It was a loop trail, but still, the moment was peak “Caleb.” I remember standing there, covered in red dust, thinking, How is this rock taking me out on my own turf? It was the kind of moment that simultaneously humbles you and teaches you something deep about yourself: I can walk miles in the desert but still get taken down by my own clumsiness.

Travel, much like life, has a funny way of holding up a mirror to your quirks and blind spots. Whether it’s getting lost in a city you were convinced you had memorized from maps or realizing that your “go-with-the-flow attitude” crumbles when faced with delayed flights, exploring new places has a way of exposing both your strengths and shortcomings. And in doing so, it can also help you grow into a more self-aware, resilient person—or, at the very least, someone who knows to double-knot their hiking boots.

Here’s what traveling has taught me about myself—and why it just might help you learn a thing or two about you, too.

1. I’m More Capable Than I Give Myself Credit For

Growing up in Salt Lake City, my ideal vacation was a weekend in Bryce Canyon with a steady stream of laminated maps and my family’s meticulously packed picnic lunches. I’d never describe myself as spontaneous. But then I found myself in Denver during grad school, forced to navigate a train system that absolutely did not run the way the websites promised. With no plan, I hopped on what I could only pray was the right route and ended up halfway across the city—nowhere near my destination, but somewhere.

To my surprise, I didn’t crumble. I found a local café (any place with coffee automatically feels like home), Googled new directions, and made it to my seminar. That goofy train ride taught me more than how to read station signs—I learned that I'm adaptable. Time and time again, travel has reminded me that I can figure things out as long as I keep cool and keep moving.

Try this: Start your trip with a rough idea of what you’ll do but leave one day completely unscheduled. Let yourself wander—even if it feels uncomfortable or weird, trust that you’ll find your footing. Who knows? You might stumble on the best tacos of your life or, better yet, stumble into a deeper sense of independence!

2. My Limits Aren’t a Sign of Weakness—They’re Guideposts

Picture this: I’m on a solo hike in Zion National Park, thinking I’ve ascended to some kind of Eat, Pray, Love transcendence, when halfway up, I hit the wall. My legs felt like they’d been replaced with spaghetti noodles, and instead of awe at Zion’s grandeur, I felt pure rage at how much elevation remained. I sat on a rock, ate a granola bar, and gave myself permission to go back. Not every trail needs summiting, and not every “path” needs completing.

Travel helped me recognize that the stories we tell ourselves about pushing through hardship don’t always serve us. Whether you’re scaling a mountain or navigating love, knowing when to take breaks, pivot, or even retreat is a form of strength.

Try this: Think of limits as guidelines rather than barriers. Whether it’s saying no to an Instagram-worthy destination that doesn’t interest you or canceling a late-night plan for some much-needed rest, honoring your boundaries can make your journey better—not weaker.

3. People Are the Best Part of the Journey (Even When They’re Challenging)

There was the time my Airbnb host in Moab wouldn’t stop telling me all about her vegan cupcake recipes over breakfast when all I wanted was coffee. Or the older couple I met on a hike in Capitol Reef who seemed to know every plant, bird, and local ghost story within Utah. Both encounters remind me of this: travel may connect you to places, but it’s the people who provide the texture.

I’ve even found myself rethinking my approach to relationships because of what I’ve learned on the road. Much like a long road trip, people come with quirks you’ll either find charming or mildly exasperating. But patience, a little humor, and curiosity will take you further than frustration ever could.

Try this: If you’re traveling alone, give yourself a mission—strike up a conversation with a stranger. It could be the barista, a fellow hiker, or the person sitting next to you on a shuttle bus. You don’t need to become best friends, but you’ll walk away with a story or two—and maybe a reminder that people are endlessly fascinating.

4. Curiosity is a Compass (And It’s Okay to Let It Go Off Course)

In college, I’d walk the tightrope between craving freedom and fearing missteps. But during a trip to Bryce Canyon, I learned the joy of simply following my whims. I couldn’t stop staring at one canyon view, so instead of charging forward to stay “on schedule,” I spent an hour soaking up the sunset. I missed another viewpoint but gained a well of inner calm I still think about today.

Travel showed me that life isn’t always about “sticking to the itinerary.” Sometimes, detours—be it spending an unexpected evening wandering unknown streets or taking a longer route just because—lead to what we need most.

Try this: Approach at least one aspect of your next trip with childlike curiosity. Wander through a local library, try a dish you don’t recognize, or get lost on purpose (within reason, of course). Curiosity has a way of putting us in places we didn’t know we’d find joy.

5. Gratitude Deepens When You Step Away

There’s nothing like sleeping in a rocky canyon with no service and five crickets for company to remind you how much you love your bed, Wi-Fi, and peace of mind. But beyond the surface-level comforts, travel has a way of making you homesick for the things that truly matter—routine, relationships, and the familiar corners of your life.

When I returned to Salt Lake City after a particularly demanding trip, I walked straight into my brother’s house and hugged my niece. I had missed her laugh more than I realized, and that moment of reconnection felt like the soul equivalent of a deep breath. Leaving can sharpen our joy for what we have—but only when we allow ourselves to tune in.

Try this: Keep a small travel journal on your trip. Jot down what makes you smile—both in new places and when you think about home. Revisit your notes when life feels dull; they’re like little doses of perspective.

6. Growth Isn’t Always Glamorous (But It’s Always Worth It)

Whether it’s wrestling with train schedules, doggedly searching for local coffee shops, or squatting to pee in the woods on an ill-advised camping trip (you better believe this has happened to me), travel stripped me of pretense. Some trips have cemented my confidence, while others have left me wanting to downright cry in a gas station parking lot. And yet, through all of it, there’s been growth—messy, unfiltered, and utterly real growth.

So much of life asks us to perform like we have it all together. But travel? Travel kindly strips that façade and gives us permission to be fully human—grumpy, awestruck, overwhelmed, adventurous, and everything in between.

Final Thoughts: Every Journey is Self-Discovery in Disguise

At the end of every trip, I always seem to find myself back in my favorite spot at home: curled up on the couch, sipping chamomile tea, and writing it all down. Travel reminds me who I am—and stretches me into someone new. The funny thing is, I’m often thankful for the “failures” on those trips, like taking the wrong train or packing exactly zero socks for a three-day hike. Those moments, oddly enough, stick the most, teaching me lessons I never signed up for but somehow needed anyway.

You don’t have to scale mountains or book international flights to learn from travel. Every step outside your comfort zone—whether it’s a weekend trip, a hike, or even just exploring a new café—is a chance to discover something about yourself. And who knows? Maybe the person you find will trip on a proverbial rock, laugh it off, and keep walking. That’s growth, my friend—dusty knees and all.