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I went to Paris! By myself! I did it!
--Pause for your surprise, awe, and admiration!--
I know! I can't believe it either. But it happened. And it's the best thing I've ever done for myself. I want to tell you everything: what I did, what I ate, what I wore. Everything.
To be quite honest, I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to write about the experience in a way that is equal to the meaning it held for me...which is causing a bit of writer's block. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to commit to being the imperfect human that I am and start by telling you how (and why) I decided to go on an overseas trip all by myself.
I'd never been anywhere alone before. I got married at 22 and had my first child just days before turning 24. I've always worked for myself in creative jobs--never a corporate gig where I would go to a conference somewhere exciting, like Cleveland. Sure, I've gone on drives or flights by myself, but it was always to meet someone that I already knew: a friend, a family member, etc. I've been to the movies by myself (it's one of my favorite activities, in fact) and I've certainly eaten quick meals alone, but I don't know that I have ever sat down at a restaurant and had a multi-course dinner without a companion.
Years ago, a friend of mine went on a solo vacation to the Pacific Northwest. She posted on social media about it--huge smile on her face. I remember thinking, well that is the bravest thing, but I could never do it.
Why is this a common thought for women? I'm sure there are plenty of men who don't want to vacation alone, but surely they don't, for one second, think that they couldn't. Is the idea of a middle-aged woman traveling by herself outside of our cultural norm? Is it a Midwest thing? Is it because, as women, we feel unsafe? Or is it because women are constantly warned that we won't be safe?
I'm not sure. I'm guessing there's a lot of feminist theory to unpack here. But I can tell you what I know: when I saw that friend's post, I didn't think that I would ever be capable of doing such a thing. I didn't have the confidence. She was a badass, I was not. I didn't think I could find my way, or deal with the types of problems that could pop up. (All of this is bullshit, of course, but I didn't know it at the time).
But mostly, I didn't want to be by myself. I wasn't interested in my interior world. I had no idea who I was. And who wants to go on vacation with a stranger?
Over the past few years, I have been on quite a journey of self-discovery. It started as an accidental journey. I didn't ask for it and I certainly didn't plan it. I suppose it’s a journey that we all find ourselves on, at some point or another, if we are lucky. Maybe it's just a part of being on the other side of 40. I heard a guest on Oprah's latest series say that we should re-brand "midlife crisis" and call it a "midlife chrysalis." Now, do not worry. I do not like cutesy-made-up names for things! But I have to admit, mid-life chrysalis sounds much more accurate than the negative connotation of a "crisis." (I've talked about it some of my journey here and here).
I'm pretty proud of the results of this growth. I know myself pretty darn well now. I surprisingly really like myself now. I like spending time alone, pursuing the goals and activities that are joyful to me. While I am extroverted and love being with my family and my friends, I now relish time alone just as much as time spent with others.
So when it was suggested to me that I should go on a solo vacation, it is notable that my first thought was "HELL YES, WHERE AM I GOING?" And then thought PARIS. Of course.
But the idea was the easy part. The hardest part came next, and that was permitting myself to do it. This Paris idea was an incredibly indulgent idea with many logistical problems. I would need the help and participation of many people, my husband being the biggest load-bearer. It would need to coincide with his work schedule, with my school schedule, with my kids' schedule. I couldn't miss any birthdays or big important dates.
But that's not where the questions ended. It was so much money! Could I spend that much on myself? For my enjoyment only? Could I spend that much time away from home? Could I secure the child care? The carpools? I did not feel like it was a worthy or deserved use of everyone's time or energy.
Friend, if you came to me and said, "I have this crazy idea--I want to go to Paris by myself! What do you think? Can I make it work?" I would tell you exactly what I had to tell myself: Yes. Just do it. Do it, do it, do it. Your family will be fine without you for a few days. Your bank account will be OK (within reason). Your spouse will be OK. Everything will be fine. You can absolutely do this. Say yes and I will help you deal with any of the consequences--but I bet they will be a lot fewer than you thought.
So I booked a non-refundable ticket so that I couldn't change my mind. I worked out all of the logistics. I asked for help. I prepped and packed and panicked. But then I got to PARIS and everything was wonderful. I did not worry about anything. I slowed down, relaxed, and enjoyed myself. I saw so much art! I ate so many pastries! I saw John Mayer!
Stay tuned as I share all of the wonderful experiences I had and the lessons I learned. I really can't wait to share. In the meantime... where will you go on your solo adventure?
(and a huge thank you to everyone IRL who helped, sent me recommendations, and, most importantly, cheered for me—it means the world. I can’t wait to return the favor.)
Love Love Love! I can't wait to hear more.
Yay! So proud of you! Can’t wait to hear all about it ❤️