I’ve always believed that travel is the best kind of self-discovery—like therapy, but with better snacks and no homework. If you’re anything like me, you entered your twenties picturing yourself as some kind of carefree adventurer. You know, suitcase in one hand, perfectly frothed cappuccino in the other, ready to conquer the world (or at least Instagram). In reality, you probably spent most of that decade working, overanalyzing text messages, and Googling “What does semi-casual mean?”

But when I finally started traveling—really traveling—I learned some hard truths about myself, ones that have made me better, stronger, and, dare I say, much more fun. Exploring new places has a way of stripping you down to your core, forcing you to face who you are without the comfort of your couch or your Matcha Mondays routine. Here’s what those miles on the road (and the occasional airport crying session) taught me—and how those lessons can change your life in ways you won’t expect.

1. I Am Not as Chill as I Thought I Was

Before I started traveling, I thought of myself as a laid-back, take-life-as-it-comes kind of gal. “Oh, we’ll figure it out,” I’d say, channeling what I now realize was absolute delusion. But try missing a connecting flight in 90-degree humidity or realizing that the charming Airbnb you booked in New Orleans backs directly onto an all-night karaoke bar. Suddenly, the “chill girl” facade cracks.

It turns out, I have a (very alarming) tendency to spiral when things don’t go as planned. I’ve cried over misplaced chargers and lost my temper with sweet old men in tuk-tuks who “accidentally” double-charged me. It’s not my most lovable trait, but it’s honest—and travel made me notice it, own it, and (mostly) get over it.

Lesson Learned: When things go wrong—and I promise, they will—it doesn’t mean your whole trip, relationship, or life is ruined. I’ve learned to breathe through the chaos and focus on the story I’ll get to tell later. Because, honestly, who would rather hear about your flawless weekend in Napa when you can spill the tea about how you made it through French customs with a suitcase literally held together by duct tape?

2. Boundaries Are Sexy

Listen, I'm all for spontaneity. Want to hit a midnight jazz club in Memphis or spend a full day debating whether Elvis stole rock ’n’ roll? Count me in. But there’s spontaneity, and then there’s agreeing to things that make you miserable just because you feel too awkward to say no.

I learned this the hard way while windsurfing in Key West, a.k.a. Carrie’s Worst Decision Ever. I don’t like being cold or wet, but I let myself get roped into it because someone said, “It’ll be fun!” Spoiler alert: it was not.

Now, I’m clear on what I will and won’t budge on. I’ll happily try new foods or wander into a rainforest on a whim, but I’m not zip-lining off anything. Travel taught me that setting boundaries doesn’t make you boring; it makes you confident. It reminds people you know who you are—and that self-assurance is magnetic, whether you're in a new city or a new relationship.

Lesson Learned: If something doesn’t feel right, give yourself permission to opt out. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for protecting your peace… or your very real, very rational fear of swan dives.

3. Hospitality Goes a Long Way

Growing up in Alabama, I thought Southern hospitality was a regional thing—church potlucks with deviled eggs, waving to every passing car, offering ice-cold sweet tea to whoever crosses your doorstep. It wasn’t until I started visiting other places that I realized kindness knows no borders.

Once, in rural Ireland, a retired schoolteacher welcomed my traveling group into her home when the nearest pub kitchen had closed for the night. She made sandwiches from her fridge, brewed fresh tea, and wouldn’t let us leave until we’d learned an embarrassingly bad Gaelic phrase (“go raibh maith agaibh,” which is “thank you” but sounds way cooler in context).

That kind of generosity humbles you. It reminds you that the relationships we forge—with strangers or loved ones—are what make life richer. It also made me think: Am I that warm to people in my life? Whether it’s on a first date or reconnecting with an old friend, travel taught me to lean into kindness. Be the person who’s happy to share a coffee or sit and listen. You’d be amazed how far a little grace can take you.

Lesson Learned: Relationships thrive when you invest the same openness you hope to receive. And hey, the occasional encouraging smile from a stranger? That’s free.

4. There’s Beauty in Letting Go (of Control and Your To-Do List)

I have to admit it: I am a planner. My idea of a thrill used to be color-coding an itinerary. But when you travel, spontaneity often sneaks up on you, whether in the form of a sunset ferry ride or an unexpected roadside diner with the best pie you’ve ever tasted.

Take that time I visited Savannah with dreams of wild garden tours and elegant brunches. Mother Nature had other plans—she dumped enough rain to make me think I was cursed. So instead of sulking, I wandered down side streets, enjoyed a two-hour chat with a bookstore clerk, and tried pralines at every shop I passed. Was it Instagram-worthy? No. Was it better? Absolutely.

Lesson Learned: Let go of your grasp on “how things are supposed to go.” Whether in travel, love, or life, the best memories come when you learn to adapt. Sometimes, changing your path leads to surprises—ones that are much sweeter than you expected.

5. You’re Never Alone When You’re Comfortable With Yourself

I used to think that dining solo or exploring a new city without backup would spotlight me as the lonely outcast of the universe. Would people pity me? Whisper, “Who’s that girl eating catfish alone?”

Here’s what I learned: No one really cares, and that’s liberating! When I finally embraced the magic of my own company, something shifted. I no longer needed a buddy to validate me. I was already having a great time—admiring landmarks, reading that book I’d been meaning to finish, ordering dessert just because I felt like it.

Lesson Learned: Travel taught me that solitude doesn’t equal loneliness. In fact, the ability to travel—and live—alone at times teaches us an essential truth: If you can find joy by yourself, you’ll be even more unstoppable in a partnership.

6. Romance Isn’t a Place—It’s a Feeling You Carry

I grew up with images of romance as grand settings: moonlit rivers, Spanish moss-draped oaks, Parisian terraces with overpriced wine. And sure, those places are dreamy. But real romance, I’ve learned, is the spark of being present. Sitting with your partner on a rickety bus in order to reach some barely-researched landmark can feel just as magical as a five-star rooftop dinner—maybe even more so.

At the heart of travel (and love, for that matter) is this: Are you paying attention? Are you seeing the beauty, sharing the joy, laughing off the disasters? That feeling, not the setting, is what makes it romantic.

Lesson Learned: Romance isn’t limited to one kind of aesthetic. It’s in how we treat people, how we soak up our surroundings, and how much we’re willing to experience—for ourselves and for each other.

Take the Journey, Learn Yourself

Travel isn’t just about passport stamps and cute souvenirs. It’s about seeing who you’re capable of becoming in the unfamiliar. It’s about finding joy in the mess of life—whether you’re boarding a plane or just learning to navigate a new chapter close to home.

If you’ve been waiting for a sign to book that trip, this is it. Get out there, get curious, and let every misstep and magical moment teach you something new about yourself. After all, the best journeys don’t just show you the world—they also reflect you right back to yourself. And trust me, that’s a view worth taking in.