I hated traveling with my family. In fact, going anywhere with them was grounds for potential disaster on the emotional scale.

            My mom would criticize everything my dad did, and that I did or did not do. She protected my siblings from my dad’s wrath, but would set me up for punishment, deserved or not.

            My first solo trip was a backpacking outing organized by the community college I was attending. I was ill-prepared with the wrong equipment, clothes and fitness level, but I didn’t know all that until we began climbing a never-ending hill.

            I was scared because I didn’t know anyone, even the young woman whose tent I shared. I talked to no one, but then, no one spoke to me either. What I did enjoy was freedom from criticism, endless arguments, and constant put-downs.

            That excursion taught me that I could, indeed, function on my own.

            When I left for college, I traveled with my brother as my parents wouldn’t let me go alone.

            What they didn’t know, couldn’t have predicted, was that once on university grounds, I cut the cord to my brother and struck out on my own. Without fear of reprisal, I made a few friends. I dated a black man who I really liked, but at around the same time we both realized that neither of us could bring the other home.

            After him, a handsome Hispanic man asked me out. Jorge was smart, easygoing, and pleasant. I did bring him home for one of the breaks, but that didn’t go over well. We remained friends even though my parents had treated him poorly.

            As I grew older, I began doing more and more things independently. I joined an on-campus religious group just so I could go on the retreat into the mountains. I found the eye clinic on campus and volunteered to try out new contacts. I loved how I looked without the thick glasses frames my parents made me wear!

            During summers, I found on-campus jobs that provided housing and meals. The independence was intoxicating.

            I traveled to Yosemite and Marin County with a date, spent a weekend at his parent’s home and even flew to Minnesota during winter break to see him!

            When I ran out of resources and jobs, I had no choice but to move back into the family home, placing me under the microscope once again. I saved and saved until I could buy a car (the dealership made me get my dad’s signature! God, I hated that.). After car, I began investigating apartments.

            Once again, I saved until I had the necessary deposit. When I locked that door behind me, I was able to breathe. I could stay up as late as I wanted, get up when I wanted, eat what I wanted, swim in the pool or sit out on my tiny balcony, whenever I wanted.

            You don’t understand how intoxicating it is to be free unless you’ve never lived under a microscope.

            My husband and I have been traveling for several years now. Most of the people we meet are couples of some kind, married or not, makes no difference. But we’ve also met solo travelers.

            I admire them so much! I doubt that I would have gone on a cruise by myself. Or hiked around Europe on my own. Or driven cross-county just because I could. My parent’s constant belittling had convinced me that I lacked the intelligence, wherewithal and basic knowledge to keep myself safe.

            As a teacher, back when there was money, I often traveled to attend conferences and on one occasion, to recruit potential teachers. I flew or drove by myself, arranged my own hotel, ate by myself and in the evenings, watched what I wanted!

            Each trip strengthened my ability to travel solo.

            While I missed my husband and would have loved someone to share ideas with, being on my own was incredibly intoxicating.

            As we get older, more and more of us will be on our own. We’ll be solo travelers, negotiating our way through life. We’ll need to understand finances, balancing budgets, logical planning, and how to get the most for our bucks.

            The thing is, we can do it. We can travel alone. We can make decisions. We can talk to total strangers or be content inside our own heads.

            Many of us will need practice to get there. I built my confidence by taking small trips, perhaps just over to San Francisco for a conference. Or driving down to Monterey or up to Sacramento. I navigated unfamiliar highways, slept in hotels chosen by the conference, ate by myself when meals weren’t part of the package.

            I learned not to fear aloneness. I now embrace it, enjoy it, lavish in it, even though I know that my husband is waiting for me back home.

            The thing is, I might outlive him. If that happens, I will be traveling alone. I won’t like having him gone, but I know that I can and will be okay as a solo traveler.