Everyone should solo travel

Everyone should solo travel

For my 23rd birthday, I booked a trip to the Dominican Republic by myself to celebrate my 23rd lap around the sun. Everyone thought I was crazy. But honestly? Best decision ever. I had the most incredible time, and now I fully believe that everyone should travel solo at least once in their life.

Here’s what I learned:

Slow travel is the best kind of travel.
There’s something so special about waking up and deciding what you want to do without having to check in with anyone else. No pressure, no plans you secretly don’t want to do—just vibes. I literally did the same thing almost every day. Eat breakfast, sit by the pool, sit on the beach, lunch, lounge somemore, eat, repeat.

And it was amazing.

It’s not as lonely as you’d think.
I thought I’d be in my feels the whole time, especially since it was my first time being by myself on my birthday. But turns out, people are so friendly when you’re solo. You end up talking to strangers more, making connections, and having real convos. I never felt alone or lonely. There was always a bartender or other travelers to talk to you.

Spending time with yourself is powerful.
If you can’t enjoy your own company, how is anyone else supposed to? Solo travel teaches you to romanticize your independence which is something I want to keep in mind as I get older. 

The world is not as scary as it seems.
Yes, be smart and safe. But also, there are so many kind, interesting people out there. I learned more Spanish in three days than in three years by forcing the locals to only talk to me in Spanish. I loved learning Dominican slang (Que lo que?!) and things I should do on my next trip to the DR.

Start with an all-inclusive if you’re nervous.
It’s the perfect low-stress launchpad for your first solo trip. Everything’s taken care of, and it gives you the confidence to venture out more. Now, I can’t speak on this too much since I’ve only solo traveled once, but now I’m itching to go somewhere else.o

You are the main character—always.
This trip reminded me that I am the only constant in my life. My happiness, my decisions, all start with me. 

And now? I want to do it again. More countries, more solo dates, more growth. 

Thank you to Punta Cana for the memories and my first sunburn.

I Hate Pink

When people see me now, they know I love pink. Everything is pink—my nails, my phone case, even the towels in my apartment.

But at 10, I hated pink. Not because I actually hated it, but because it wasn’t cool to like pink. So I said my favorite color was blue instead. (To be fair, blue is still my second favorite—I love a good coastal grandma aesthetic.)

By 17, I had reclaimed pink. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the 12-year-old girl who had once swapped her pink princess room for Tiffany blue because, in 2014, Breakfast at Tiffany’s was the pinnacle of cool.

And then, suddenly, I was 20. And I hated pink again—not because I really hated it, but because I had convinced myself I had to. I let myself fade into a world of greys, blacks, and neutrals, believing that was the price of belonging. That was how I proved my commitment to fulfilling a family legacy.

I look back now and realize I thought I was at my happiest. I thought I was at my peak. But all I see is a 20-year-old girl so desperate to impress that she lost herself in the process.

My two-year, neutral-toned world came crashing down one night. I had stripped myself of everything that made me me—and for what? To be seen? To be chosen? When I wasn’t, I felt like a failure.

Or at least, I thought so.

Now, at almost 23, I sit in my pink-alicious one-bedroom apartment in the city I dreamed about at 17. I hear people talking as they pass by my window. I use the creativity I once poured into my pink childhood bedroom to fuel my dream job. I just shipped a PR package to Hailey Bieber.

10-year-old me would ask, “Who is Hailey Bieber?” and wonder why my last name isn’t Bieber. 17-year-old me would be screaming, freaking out, telling me this is so cool—before realizing that for me now, this is just normal. We send cool things to people we love.

What I once saw as failure was really just me needing my pink back. So believe me, your rejection was God’s redirection.

Because I got my pink back.