My Time Alone Transformed My Semester Abroad
and allowed me to meet more people than ever before.
People seem to be shocked by the amount of time I spent alone during my semester abroad. I wandered the streets of Barcelona alone after class almost every day. I took a few solo weekend trips and a few hybrid trips with some combination of friends and alone time. When my program ended, I spent five days alone in Croatia before a few days in England.
I was on an American exchange program and, as far as I know, I’m the only one who took any trips alone. I discovered that traveling alone is quite common among international students, and quite uncommon among American ones. American students who study abroad tend to stick together in loud and obnoxious packs; and we wonder how we get our reputation!
We seek each other out as a point of refuge, instead of finding comfort in the newness around us. We travel to try new things, yet shield ourselves from what is totally foreign with the boundaries of our comfort zone. We create experiences from within our bubble, but miss out on the opportunities that exist just across the border. We fall into old routines in new places. We will push ourselves; as long as we have others to lean on when shit hits the fan.
I boarded my flight alone: New York to Barcelona. It was the night of my 21st birthday — I was confident, eager, and ambitious. I sprawled out, exhaled my inhibitions, and grabbed my unmarked journal.
I began writing a list of goals.
- Blog consistently
- Read a book in Spanish
- Take a drawing class
- Never sacrifice my dreams for a comfortable alternative
The list continued with more successes and failures. If I’d accomplished any of the first three, I’d be writing about them too! For now, I’ll focus on the last point.
There was a deadline on these goals. I knew that in four months, they would simply be accomplished or not. My mind raced with unknown — blanks in my journal that would soon be filled. I didn’t know with what exactly, but I had an idea of how I wanted it to read.
I embarked on this journey alone, and intended to make my time abroad exactly that — MY time. On the plane, it was easy to convince myself that I would embrace effortless independence upon landing. I was alone, and my confidence snowballed off the excitement that comes with a fresh start. But I knew myself. Within some short period of time, I would likely have a group of people who would leave me with a severe case of FOMO should I choose to do anything without them.
I credit much of the achievement of this last goal to my preparedness for the obstacles I knew I would face. I allowed myself to fantasize on that plane, but I also forced myself to consider the future as reality. I dreamed to be spontaneous and independent, but that would not come without real sacrifice.
I drilled this into my stubborn mind — a mind that wanted to be left alone to its sweet dreams.
On day one of my program, friend groups were formed frantically and aggressively — with a Hunger Games-esque sense of desperation. God forbid we waited to befriend others based on something more than our fear of being alone!
I forced myself into a dinner with a group of strangers that night, and shortly after, I had friends. Everyone wanted to travel, so by the end of the meal we were already talking trips. We met that day, and trips were already being planned for next weekend. I liked the people I met, but the first destination that was miraculously agreed upon by the entire group was not on the top of my list. I considered abandoning somewhere on my list to go with them — it was the first weekend after all. It was tempting; but I knew what I had to do.
I ended up skipping the first few weekend trips to avoid compromising my own bucket list. I talked myself down from social anxiety for much of the beginning of the semester.
I was afraid of: missing out, seeming disinterested in the people rather than their plans, being lonely, being coined as the weirdo who disappeared on the weekends, etc! These anxieties were all legitimate, it did take me longer than others to establish my place within the group. I was constantly reminding myself of my individual goals — the ones I established before I was clouded by the ones of the group. They kept me focused on what I knew I wanted. When I finally became comfortable in the group, I was surprisingly flattered by the envy that my peers vocalized of my independence.
My confidence exploded.
Through travel, I became surer of my abilities not just to handle, but to thrive in the face of unforeseen adventure. I was incessantly pursuing spontaneity, and basking in the thrill of doing so. When I came back from weekends alone, my friends could not wait to hear about the stories that they knew I would have. Through these people, I became surer of my abilities not just to handle, but to thrive in social settings.
My independence inadvertently became a frequent point of discussion when I’d return.
“It’s so cool that you just do what you want all the time.”
“I wish I could do that, but I can’t be by myself for that long.”
“You’re so confident. I’d be way too nervous to go anywhere alone.”
But there was nothing I was doing that they could not. Before I got to Spain, the most I’d been on my own was a two-week session at sleep-away camp. I did not embark on my journey with a history of self-sufficiency. I wasn’t a solo traveler; but I did book a flight alone and get on it.
I enjoy my own company. Honestly, I think I’m pretty damn entertaining — probably why I wasn’t often bored during my time alone. And while it was “solo travel” in the sense of embarking and returning alone, I often ended my trips wishing I had more time alone.
My trips were characterized by the people I met throughout them. I stayed in hostels and met more people than I ever did traveling with others. I spent days and nights with strangers; some of whom became lasting friends and some whose place will forever be “the guy from the bar in Rome.” It was uncomfortable to accept that some people matter solely because of one single shared experience. I now realize that some people will have a drink with you, offering no greater value; and that’s enough. In fact, those are some of the memories I cherish the most.
When I first started traveling alone, I feigned a deeper understanding of life with each new person I met. I thought everyone and everything was changing my life. I forced enlightenment onto each new experience. Meeting people from different countries fascinated me. It still does, but I now realize that it’s possible to be international and uninteresting!
Group travel is great; some of my favorite memories from the semester are with friends from my program. But personal growth — that happens in the presence of your own company.
