What Travel Has Taught Me About Myself

There’s a moment in every trip when you feel it: the unshakable realization that no matter where you go, you can’t outrun yourself. Like that one sequin lodged in your purse long after a glittery night out, you carry pieces of yourself wherever you venture. But travel, with its disorienting beauty, sweaty struggles, and humbling lessons, has a way of holding up the world’s largest mirror—a wildly unflattering one sometimes, but always honest.

I didn’t start traveling to “find myself”—who could even stomach that as a sincere motive, really? I started for stories: a dramatic backdrop for character study, a swirl of experiences to relive over cocktails with friends. What I found, though, was a better understanding of how I love, connect, and even mess up. From Las Vegas to London, beaches to back alleys, here’s what I’ve learned about myself (and maybe you, too).

Lesson 1: Packing Too Much Baggage Is Never About the Baggage

Oh, the carry-on vs. checked luggage debate—a metaphor just waiting to happen. The first time I traveled solo, I brought enough for a three-month European winter despite heading to the Caribbean. I had backup outfits for my backup outfits. Somewhere between struggling to lift my suitcase onto the airport scale and realizing TSA employees were judging my packing choices, it hit me: overpacking isn’t practical; it’s protective.

We do this in relationships, don’t we? Lugging around all the emotional “just in case” items. Just in case I get rejected, here’s my armor of self-defensiveness. Just in case I get hurt, here’s a pre-packed reason why it wasn’t my fault. Travel taught me that my over-preparation was all about control, trying to tame the chaos of the unknown. What I really needed was less stuff and more trust—in myself and the journey.

Actionable takeaway:
- Pack light—not just on trips, but emotionally. Acknowledge the fears you’re carrying like extra shoes you’ll never wear. Ask yourself, “What can I leave behind this time?”

Lesson 2: Getting Lost Is the Point

In Venice, I followed my GPS so religiously that I walked into a canal. (Yes, full-on foot dip into murky water. 10/10 do not recommend.) Even with a sparkling blue dot guiding me, I couldn’t navigate the labyrinthine streets. Frustrated and embarrassed, I yanked the map from my pocket and let myself explore: no directions, no agenda. That’s when I found the tiny courtyard where locals strummed guitars at dusk, sipping wine as if it were water. The evening became a highlight of my trip—and a critical reminder.

When we try to control every twist and turn in dating or life, we miss the magic of unexpected moments. Too often, I’ve approached relationships the way I approached Venice—head down in my plan, ignoring the beauty around me. Travel taught me that sometimes, the best memories are born from things not going according to plan.

Actionable takeaway:
- Ditch your “map” once in a while. Cancel your five-year life plan for a night and say yes to something unstructured, messy, or entirely new.

Lesson 3: You Are Who You Are, No Matter the Scenery

I’ll admit it: I romanticized the idea of a “new me” boarding the plane to London. I was 20, full of wide-eyed abroad-student dreams spun from Anna Karenina novels and Instagram’s early Valencia-filtered days. I convinced myself that the dreary glamour of the UK would turn me into someone mysterious and alluring. Spoiler alert: it did not.

Instead, I was still the girl who couldn’t parallel park her emotions properly. Still the one overthinking texts and apologizing too quickly if I felt awkward. The novelty of travel doesn’t erase you—it magnifies your quirks. When I leaned into this truth, it was freeing. I didn’t have to be a polished “ideal traveler” version of myself; I could just be me, scarfing down chips at 2 a.m. and chatting up strangers who laughed at my touristy clumsiness.

Actionable takeaway:
- Stop waiting for the “right” setting to become your best self. Work on loving the authentic you, even if that means accepting the version who can’t pull off effortless Pinterest vibes.

Lesson 4: No Experience Is Ever Wasted

Picture this: I’m 26 in Paris, eating lunch alone at a café because my travel buddy ditched me over an argument about our itinerary. (It’s just so romantic to bicker over breakfast crepes, truly.) Furious and swearing I’d never travel with friends again, I went into tourist autopilot, walking briskly to avoid my disappointment. Then, while wandering Montmartre, I stumbled onto the set of an indie French film mid-production. The set designer let me hang out for an hour, where I soaked in their process—the colors, the costumes, the way they lit actors’ faces in perfect haze and shadow.

That argument? Forgettable. That accidental detour? Priceless. Experiences that don’t pan out often feel like failures in the moment, but they ultimately add texture to your narrative. Relationships are the same. Just because something fizzled doesn’t make it irrelevant. Every first date fail, awkward ghosting, and breakup tears all add to what makes you interesting, resilient, and empathetic.

Actionable takeaway:
- Shift perspective on your regrets. What moments, as painful or pointless as they once felt, have shaped or inspired you? Write them down—the good, the bad, and the accidentally awesome.

Lesson 5: The Company Matters More Than the Destination

It’s true: gaze at a Tuscan sunset with someone boring and the sun sets a little bit lamer. Conversely, a Vegas drive-through dive bar dinner with your favorite person becomes a Michelin-starred memory. Travel gave me clarity on the kind of people I want to share my life (and my luggage space) with.

On my semester abroad, I found myself gravitating toward people who added spark to their surroundings, no matter how uneventful the day. Conversely, I became hyperaware of draining personalities—the chronic complainers, the drama magnets. Figuring this out in travel context spared me countless dates with people who didn’t align with my vibe.

Actionable takeaway:
- Take note of how people show up—are they engaged, appreciative, and fun, or dragging down the vibe? Build relationships with people who bring warmth and joy to the metaphorical table.

Lesson 6: You Can’t Keep Running

When I was 23, I booked an impromptu solo trip to escape a freshly broken heart. Fleeing felt cathartic: “Take that, feelings!” I thought on the plane, sipping Sprite and plotting my glamorous sadness while staring moodily out the window. But as the days passed, my heartache followed me, stubborn as a hangnail.

Here’s the bittersweet truth: you can’t outrun your emotions, no matter how far your passport takes you. Pain travels light. But maybe that’s okay. Carrying my broken heart through cobblestone streets made me kinder to myself. In every museum, café corner, or morning light pouring into my Airbnb, I started finding beauty in where I was, regardless of how I felt. It was a clichéd lesson, sure—heartbreak is love’s tax—but it turned me into someone who knows how to sit with discomfort without running.

Actionable takeaway:
- Take your feelings on vacation. Let travel expand, not erase, your experiences as you grow through what’s hard.

Conclusion: The World Asks Us to Show Up

Travel is a collaboration between you and the world. It doesn’t care if you’ve mapped out every stop or have no clue where you’re headed. It just asks you to be present, to show up with curiosity and courage, and to trust that even the most disorienting moments (like walking into a literal canal) will teach you something about yourself.

So pack light, let yourself get lost, and know that wherever you go, there you are—flaws, hopes, and all. The journey isn’t about arriving perfectly, but becoming more human along the way. Safe travels.