What Travel Has Taught Me About Myself
Love and Luggage: The Great Unpack
The first time I traveled solo, I made the rookie mistake of overpacking—a colossal suitcase stuffed with "just in case" outfits, books I would never open, and three pairs of shoes (two too many). My back complained all the way through the Madrid metro, and so did I. Looking back, I laugh because this moment taught me something profound: we all carry baggage. Some of it is physical—like that rolling suitcase that barely survived the cobblestones—and some of it is emotional. Travel, like relationships, forces you to unpack, to figure out what’s weighing you down, and to decide what to leave behind.
Relationships often start the same way as travel: full of excitement, possibility, and the occasional overestimation of how much you need to bring. But whether you’re exploring a new city or getting to know someone’s quirks, lightening your load can feel incredibly freeing.
Lesson learned? Be selective about what you carry with you, in both life and love. That resentment from your last breakup? Leave it in the metaphorical lost-and-found bin of your life. You’ll be lighter for it.
You Can’t Plan the Perfect Trip (or Relationship)
I’m a planner by nature, with color-coded itineraries to prove it. But if there’s one thing travel has taught me, it’s this: chaos will always crash the party. A delayed train in Chile resulted in a spontaneous night of stargazing in the Atacama Desert. A missed flight in Buenos Aires turned into a two-day adventure with an older couple who kindly shared their tango stories with me over empanadas.
The same is true in relationships. Just like those Instagram-perfect trips where the reality is rain-soaked umbrellas and unflattering rain ponchos, what truly builds intimacy is navigating the unplanned moments. That time you burned dinner trying to impress your partner, or the argument you had on the way to a “perfect” anniversary date? Those are the stories you’ll laugh about later.
So, stop looking for "perfect." It doesn’t exist. Swap your obsessively detailed life itinerary for a flowy, see-where-the-wind-takes-you approach. Life—and love—have a funny way of surprising us when we loosen our grip.
Getting Lost Can Feel Like Being Found
I’ll admit it: I’m terrible at reading maps. Once, I got so turned around in Santiago that I ended up in La Vega, a chaotic, bustling market, instead of the art museum I’d planned to visit. That accidental detour led me to a vendor selling pastel de choclo so delicious I wanted to hug whoever invented it (probably a genius with a love for corn).
Getting lost taught me patience, creativity, and, frankly, how to ask for help when I needed it. In dating, you don’t always know what direction things will take. You might think you’re heading toward a picturesque rom-com ending, only to realize the person across from you is more “unscored horror film.” Alternatively, a chance encounter—a blind date you swear won’t work or an accidental “wrong table” moment at a café—might unexpectedly bloom into something surprising and beautiful.
Detours aren’t failures; they’re opportunities to recalibrate. Give yourself permission to lose your way occasionally. You might just stumble upon the emotional equivalent of pastel de choclo.
Connections Are Universal
I once shared a train ride with a kind grandmother in Mexico City who didn’t speak a word of English (and my Spanish is flawless only in my dreams). Yet somehow, we connected over the universal language of smiles, the shared experience of life’s unexpected hiccups, and, most importantly, her homemade pan dulce.
Whether you’re navigating an unfamiliar city or trying to decode your crush’s cryptic text (“Sounds fun, maybe we’ll see”), building connections hinges on shared humanity. Romantic sparks, platonic kindness, or fleeting moments of understanding—they all rest on empathy. When someone tells me they can’t understand modern relationships because “everyone wants different things these days,” I think about that grandmother on the train. Shared values—kindness, respect, and a willingness to listen—tend to speak louder than any language barrier, geographical or otherwise.
You’re Stronger Alone Than You Think
The first time I walked into a Madrid café alone, I felt like every pair of eyes was on me. My inner monologue screamed, “What are you doing? Only people in rom-com montages sit solo and look confident!” I almost retreated. Then I ordered a café con leche, opened my book, and felt a quiet confidence settle in.
I learned something monumental amidst the clinking coffee mugs and swirling autumn leaves outside the window: I didn’t need anyone to validate my existence. I was enough. Sure, love and companionship bring joy, but the relationship you have with yourself? That’s the one you can’t afford to neglect.
If travel has taught me anything, it’s that you’re capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. Eat alone at the nice restaurant. Chase a dream no one else understands yet. Fall in love, but don’t lose yourself. Independence isn’t the absence of connection—it’s the foundation on which strong connections are built.
Wrap Up: Life Lessons in Motion
Travel has been the best mentor I’ve ever had. It’s challenged me, humbled me, and forced me to confront my own insecurities. It’s taught me to embrace vulnerability and step into the unfamiliar, whether that’s a sun-soaked plaza in Santiago or the beginnings of a new relationship.
If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: Our journeys—geographic, emotional, relational—are messy and imperfect, but oh-so worth it. Every crumpled map, every lost way, every unexpected surprise is part of the story we’re writing.
So, pack your metaphorical suitcase wisely, stay curious about detours, and trust that whether you’re navigating the streets of Madrid or the complexities of modern love, you’re learning something extraordinary along the way.
And don’t forget, as my grandmother used to say: bring snacks. Life is easier when you’re not hangry.
