Introduction
Have you ever thought about how much of yourself you pack with you when you travel? I’m not talking about the extra pair of boots you swore you’d need or the journal you insist you’ll write in every evening but abandon after day three. I’m talking about you—your quirks, insecurities, and that tiny voice in your head that wonders, “Am I lost, or am I just discovering a new way forward?” Spoiler alert: It’s usually both.
As someone who grew up in a small Colorado town where our “Big Day Out” was a trip to the city feed store, my definition of exploring the world used to be limited to uncovering new hiking trails or guessing which horses my mom would assign for the afternoon tour group. But the minute I started venturing beyond the San Juan Mountains—whether to abandoned mining towns, sprawling cities, or way-too-long overseas flights—I realized something remarkable: Every destination had less to teach me about geography and more to show me about myself.
Here’s what travel taught me—and what it might teach you, too.
1. You Can’t Outrun Yourself (But You Can Walk Alongside Your Own Shadow)
There’s this idea that when you’re struggling—or straight-up overwhelmed—you can just get away, hit the reset button, and forget it all. I once drove six hours into Utah to “process a breakup,” hoping that the red rock mesas might unknot my chest the way a good campfire can unknot your boots. Spoiler: The only thing I forgot during that trip was how unflattering tourist hats can be on windy canyon overlooks.
What travel does, though, is hold up a funhouse mirror to your emotional baggage. Somewhere between getting lost on a backroad and overpaying for a mediocre sandwich, you start recognizing patterns in yourself: your reactions, your habits, your comfort zones. And maybe, just maybe, you start working with those parts of yourself rather than against them.
Pro Tip: Take the “mirror moment” in stride. If you’re traveling solo, bring a small journal (or the Notes app on your phone, if you’re more modern than me) to jot down what’s coming up for you. Whether it’s awe, insecurity, or joy, it’s all worth exploring.
2. Connection Starts Somewhere Unexpected
I used to think building relationships required shared history: childhood memories, favorite hangouts, Jeep tours where you scream into an empty canyon. But one night in Prague, at a hostel bar where nobody seemed to speak a language fluently but everyone seemed fluent in toasting, I learned there’s magic in diving headfirst into conversation—even when you feel ridiculous.
A guy named Matteo asked me about life in the Rockies but kept mispronouncing “Colorado” as “Colorful Dorado.” By the third time, I decided that “Colorful Dorado” sounded so much better than the real thing I told him I might start calling it that, too. He laughed so hard his beer foamed over, and before I knew it, we were talking about everything from mountain sunrises to ocean sunsets.
Without meaning to, I’d stumbled into this revelation: Vulnerability (and a shared laugh) is often your ticket to connection. Whether it’s the warm smile of a stranger who gives directions or a deep conversation with a travel companion, relationships don’t need to start big—they just need to start.
Pro Tip: Be okay looking a little silly. Mispronounce that dish on the menu. Laugh at yourself when you flub a local phrase. Most people are just delighted you’re trying.
3. You’re Not as Stuck as You Think
Getting lost in an unfamiliar place is a glorious exercise in learning to let go of control. When I visited Washington, D.C. during grad school, I had this carefully planned agenda for seeing every historical monument, museum, and dive bar known for once hosting a Founding Father (or at least a guy who kind of sounded like Thomas Jefferson after three drinks).
Then my meticulously folded, hand-annotated map blew straight into the Tidal Basin. Gone. I spent the next three hours bumping into sights the old-fashioned way: by accident.
I never did make it to all the places on my original list because I’d traded them for unplanned moments—like watching an elderly couple dance under the cherry blossoms, feeling oddly both wistful and hopeful at the same time. It made me realize that life, much like travel, isn’t something you conquer. It’s something you flow with.
Pro Tip: If you visit somewhere new, leave a handful of hours every day open for serendipitous detours. Not everything in life (or love) needs a detailed itinerary.
4. You’re Stronger Than You Give Yourself Credit For
Maybe it’s the mountain kid in me, but I’m a fan of trail metaphors—the winding kind where the altitude leaves you breathless, the kind where you curse yourself halfway through because it’s harder than you thought. Traveling pushes your limits in a similar way. It asks you to adapt when your ride cancels last minute, when the restaurant is cash-only and you only have card, or when the TSA confiscates your sunscreen, and you arrive crispy as a tortilla chip by day two.
But every time I’ve had to pivot, MacGyver my way through a setback, or muster up a smile in an airport line so chaotic it looked like a deleted scene from World War Z, I’ve learned this: Strength isn’t just about overcoming obstacles—it’s about acknowledging them and choosing to keep going anyway.
Pro Tip: Celebrate your little victories. Made it to your tiny Airbnb using just a poorly marked map and two high school Spanish phrases? Bam. You’re thriving.
5. Gratitude Changes Everything
Travel has this way of shaking things up and putting your priorities into place. On a ranch, you learn the basics of gratitude early—like how good a plate of eggs tastes after you’ve stacked bales of hay for three hours. But seeing life outside the familiar opens new perspectives.
I remember walking through a bustling market in Mexico City once, mesmerized by the colors, smells, and sounds. I’d just bought a tamale when I noticed a family laughing and eating together nearby. Something clicked in me then. I’ve chased a lot of dreams (literally raced through airports to chase them), but ultimately, what I want most is right there in front of me: moments of connection, community, and a good tamale.
Travel reminds us to savor—not just the experiences we paid for, but the small, everyday joy of sharing a sunrise, a meal, or even a knowing smile with someone who gets it.
Pro Tip: Bring part of that gratitude home with you. Take a moment each morning to acknowledge something you’re thankful for, whether it’s your coffee maker or someone you love.
Closing Thoughts
The thing about travel is that it never really ends. Sure, you come home with souvenirs or an overstuffed phone gallery, but something bigger lingers—little pieces of wisdom wrapped neatly in those accumulated miles. If travel taught me nothing else, it’s that life works the same way: When you show up curious and ready to explore, your perspective shifts.
So wherever you’re headed next, bring an open heart and maybe a sense of humor for when things don’t go quite as planned (because they won’t). And if all else fails? There’s always a friend to be made at a hostel bar or a trail waiting to help you rediscover yourself again.
Here’s to the journey—both the miles on the map and the ones within.