Travel: The World’s Greatest Couples Counselor

It hit me somewhere over the North Sea during a layover from Edinburgh to Nantucket. Amid the crying babies, suspiciously damp armrests, and the relentless assault of airline peanuts, it dawned on me: travel has been the steadiest mirror I’ve ever held up to myself. It has this unnerving ability to reveal who we are–or sometimes, who we’ve been pretending not to be. It’s not just about collecting passport stamps or perfectly staged Instagram shots (though I’ll admit, I once risked a selfie with a stubborn Highland cow). Travel transforms us, often in ways we don’t expect.

Take it from someone who’s tripped–physically and emotionally–through enough places to know better. Here are some lessons the world taught me about myself, one canceled flight and offbeat adventure at a time.

1. You Can’t Escape Who You Are (Not Even in Scotland)

There’s no better way to meet yourself than to plop into a city where no one knows your name. When I moved to Edinburgh for a year, I thought I’d become an entirely new version of Oliver Wentworth: worldly, mysterious, maybe the type of guy who owned multiple trench coats. But surprise, surprise—I was still the same guy fumbling over subway ticket machines and accidentally ordering soda water when I wanted something else.

What I learned is this: location is not identity. Sure, travel enhances us—it pulls us out of the everyday grind and gives us a wider lens—but it doesn’t erase the core truths about us. I’ll always be a little nostalgic, a little obsessed with the past (hence the history books stuffed in my suitcase), and a little too quick to Google “closest library” instead of “best pub.”

The relationship tip: Trying to reinvent yourself to impress someone new? Avoid it. Be magnetic by being you. Whether in love or travel, authenticity is far more attractive than pretending to be someone else. Trench coats optional.

2. Getting Lost Is Part of the Process

I once got lost on Nantucket—a feat that arguably shouldn’t happen on an island you can drive across in under an hour. But the same thing happened in Edinburgh, Boston, even a dizzying Parisian metro station where I ended up at the wrong Louvre entrance (yes, there are multiple). What can I say? I have the directional instincts of a wayward seagull.

But in those moments of wandering, I’ve discovered the best parts of each destination—and not in a cheesy “the detour was the destination” kind of way. It’s amazing how many serendipitous encounters begin with taking the wrong turn. In Scotland, I stumbled across a tucked-away bookshop where I met the older woman who introduced me to Robert Burns poetry. In Paris, I found an antique store selling secondhand watches with stories etched into their faces.

The lesson: Whether you’re lost in a new city or stumbling through a relationship rough patch, sometimes you simply have to sit with the uncertainty. Stop mapping your every move and follow your instincts. You’d be surprised how often life points you somewhere better than Google Maps ever could.

3. Patience is a Passport Stamp You Can’t Fake

If you’ve ever waited out a weather delay inside Logan Airport—with its distinct aroma of despair and overpriced coffee—then you already know this truth: travel tests your patience in ways Tinder date banter never could. There were moments waiting for buses in Portugal or ferries on Nantucket when I thought I might actually combust from impatience.

But funny thing—it’s about more than just surviving long lines or language barriers. It teaches you patience with people, too. Like the cranky café server in Rome who didn’t have time for my butchered Italian but still slid me an extra biscotti. Or the friend I traveled with in college who hovered over maps like a heat-seeking missile, driving me insane—until I realized how much pressure she felt to organize everything flawlessly.

Having patience taught me that every journey—whether romantic or geographical—includes a learning curve. A little grace goes a long way when tempers flare.

Dating application: The person you’re on a date with might talk too much about cryptocurrency or ask taboo questions like “What’s your five-year plan?” Give it a beat. They might be nervous (and harmless). Sometimes we grow a little closer to others—and to ourselves—when we’re willing to be patient.

4. Discomfort Strengthens You (But Dang, It's Tough in the Moment)

Here’s a fun fact about me: I’m not what anyone would call “outdoorsy.” Growing up on Nantucket, I was perfectly content being near the ocean rather than diving into it headfirst. And yet, travel has a way of chucking you into situations you’d never sign up for voluntarily.

For instance, an ambitious hike in the Scottish Highlands that left me cursing every incline. Or the time I accidentally boarded the literal wrong ship in Nantucket and ended up yards from an oyster farm tour—which smelled exactly as briny as you imagine. These experiences blurred the line between hilarious misadventures and moments of “what fresh hell have I signed up for?”

But as it turns out, discomfort has a funny way of expanding your limits. Sure, I ached the next day after that Highland hike, but I also had a better view of the city below me than I ever thought possible.

The real-life parallel: All relationships include moments of discomfort—awkward silences, vulnerability hangovers, or hashing out that irritating toothpaste-squeezing issue for the 90th time. But leaning into discomfort gets you closer to the life (and love) you really want.

5. People Are the Best Part

When I returned to Nantucket after living elsewhere, people always asked, “What was your favorite part of Edinburgh?” And while I should technically cite the castles, cobblestone streets, or the perpetually moody sky, my answer has always been: the people.

There’s the stranger who helped me decipher obscure train timetables. The Swedish backpacker who recommended the best fish and chips in town. The friend who cooked me haggis—don’t knock it till you’ve tried it—and taught me about where her family had lived for generations.

Places are memorable, sure, but it’s the connections that give them life. Even when they’re brief, the people you meet—they remind you of the world beyond your bubble.

In relationships: The same is true. Love is about experiences, yes, but shared experiences are what punctuate the story. Be as curious about your partner’s world as you are about foreign cities—you might find hidden gems in the people right in front of you.

Wrapping It Back Home

Every time I arrive back in Nantucket after wandering somewhere new, I’m struck by just how much travel transforms—and yet grounds—you. Remember that quote, “Wherever you go, there you are”? It’s true. You’re still you, but every trip subtly bends the edges of that core self, giving you more understanding, patience, and perspective.

In the end, what travel has taught me is this: life, like love, is never “figured out.” It’s an unfolding adventure, filled with wrong turns, tiny miracles, and countless moments that make your breath catch. So approach each journey, romantic or otherwise, with curiosity, humility, and maybe a slightly larger suitcase than you think you’ll need.

Because in both travel and relationships, the best souvenirs are the parts of you that are braver, kinder, and more alive than you ever thought possible.