What Travel Has Taught Me About Myself

Introduction: Getting Lost—and Finding Yourself

There’s a certain kind of clarity you can only find when you’re desperately trying to read a map upside down in Reykjavik while a gust of the iciest wind you’ve ever felt peels your scarf off like it’s got a vendetta. Clarity in realizing two things: one, you’re definitely lost; and two, maybe being lost isn’t so terrible after all.

Travel offers a unique mirror to hold up to yourself. It doesn’t always show the picture-perfect version of you with tousled hair and an expertly packed carry-on. Instead, it reveals the version of you who overestimates your ability to navigate public transportation and underestimates just how many socks you’ll need for a damp Norwegian hike. Spoiler alert: it’s always more socks.

Each time I’ve packed a bag and stepped out the door, whether it’s been to wander Icelandic fjords or revisit the familiar trails of Acadia National Park, I’ve ended up learning something about myself—some small truth wrapped in jet lag and carry-on chaos. Here’s what exploring the world has taught me, and how it applies to life, love, and the ever-messy journey toward becoming a better, more self-aware version of yourself.

1. Getting Uncomfortable Is Where You Grow

You don’t truly know yourself until you’re crouched over a toilet on a tilting ferry, praying that your breakfast of fish stew doesn’t make a reappearance while a stranger shouts “Hold on tighter!” in a language you don’t understand. (Yep. That happened. Thanks, Norway.)

Travel is messy and full of moments where you feel stretched beyond your comfort zone. Whether it’s trying to pronounce “svið”—Icelandic for boiled sheep’s head—without offending the chef or hiking a trail steeper than your average rom-com love triangle, the moments where you think, I cannot do this are often the ones where you grow the most.

The same applies to relationships. Discomfort is inevitable—whether it’s the awkward silences of a first date or the vulnerable conversation where you confess your insecurities. Growth often hinges on your willingness to stay in that discomfort long enough to learn something about yourself (and maybe your partner). Spoiler alert: You’re stronger than you think.

Takeaway: Seek out your metaphorical fish stew moments. They might stink at the time, but they leave you with incredible stories and stronger resilience.

2. There’s Magic in Not Overplanning

I’ll admit, I’m a type-A planner. I love a good itinerary, preferably color-coded and laminated like it’s about to be a national relic. But when I got to Iceland, I learned that plans are just suggestions, and the real magic often lives in serendipity.

One morning, a planned glacier hike fell through due to unpredictable weather (thank you, Atlantic winds). Instead, I ended up wandering into a small coastal village where I watched puffins divebomb the ocean for hours while chatting with an elderly fisherman about his collection of hand-carved boats. You can’t plan for something that pure and magical.

It’s the same with connections. You can’t script every moment of your interactions with someone new, no matter how much rom-coms would have us believe otherwise. Overly structured plans—whether it’s a “perfect” first date or following rigid rules for how often to text—sometimes miss the joy of simply letting things unfold. Magic happens when you leave space for it.

Takeaway: Make plans, but don’t marry them—whether it’s for travel or love. Be open to the unexpected, and you might just end up with your best memories yet.

3. Packing Light Is a Metaphor for... Everything

It only takes one hike lugging an oversized backpack stuffed with “essentials” (read: three extra sweatshirts plus a curling iron you won’t even use) to teach you something about the value of simplicity. On my first trip abroad, I was guilty of bringing way too much, only to discover that half of it stayed untouched at the bottom of my bag. What truly mattered? A couple of comfy staples, good shoes, and my trusty journal.

In life—and in relationships—sometimes we carry baggage we don’t need. Old grudges, unhelpful habits, emotional walls built from past heartbreaks. Travel reminds you to evaluate your pack. What’s truly essential? What’s weighing you down? Whether figurative or literal, lightening the load leaves room for joy, curiosity, and spontaneity.

Takeaway: Let go of the non-essentials, whether they’re your ex’s sweatshirt or that grudge about how they ate all your fries again. Life moves easier when you pack light.

4. Small Moments Are Big (If You Let Them Be)

My most vivid travel memory isn’t the dramatic landscapes or postcard-worthy sunsets. It’s the little things: walking barefoot across cool moss in Norway, losing track of time in the candlelit corner of a cafe in Reykjavik, or watching the fog bow low over Bar Harbor like it was keeping its secrets close.

Small things add up. In travel, it’s a reminder that most of life’s meaning is tucked into the moments we often overlook. That quiet sunrise before the world wakes up. That accidental laugh you share with someone who forgets to be guarded.

In relationships, it’s all about the in-between moments too. It’s not just the big date-night gestures, but the way you make each other tea when one person’s sick or dance in the kitchen to terrible music while the pasta boils over.

Takeaway: Pay attention to the little things. Often, they’re the things worth remembering later.

5. You Can Feel at Home Anywhere (If You’re Patient)

Funny thing about travel: while it’s often framed as escape, what it really teaches you is how to create a sense of home wherever you are. On my travels, “home” has been a shabby guesthouse with a single, creaky room; a campsite by a lake; and a hostel bunk I shared with strangers who quickly became friends over late-night card games.

It’s less about where you are and more about how you adapt. Relationships, too, thrive when you learn how to build comfort and security together, not as a place, but as a process. It doesn’t matter if you’re sipping wine on a balcony in Paris or splitting takeout on your couch; it’s the feeling of belonging that makes it special.

Takeaway: Whether you’re in a big city, a small village, or snuggled in your partner’s arms—home is what you make it.

Conclusion: Journey On

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my travels, it’s this: the world is vast, unpredictable, and often a little rough around the edges—and so, too, are we. But somewhere in the mess—in the tangled train schedules, botched translations, and last-minute detours—is where we discover who we are and what we’re capable of.

Travel has shown me that I’m braver than I thought, more adaptable than I expected, and endlessly curious about what lies just around the next bend. Whether you’re booking a one-way ticket abroad or setting off on the wild adventure of letting someone new into your heart, trust the journey. You might just surprise yourself.

So fold your map, adjust your expectations, and go—get lost, get found, and gather every beautiful, unexpected lesson along the way.