The idea of solo traveling always seemed like a bit of a nightmare to me.
Although I’m independent, I’m not naturally social with strangers, and I don’t enjoy going on adventures by myself. It’s not the planning that throws me off, but rather the ability to feel OK in the in-between moments when there’s no one to talk to or share the day with.
But I pushed past all of that when I realized taking a solo trip (abroad, no less) would give me the opportunity to see my favorite artist, UK girl group Little Mix, perform live — something I never thought I’d do.
Other than opening for artists like Demi Lovato and Ariana Grande, they never really toured in the US, and seeing them always felt like a long shot unless I traveled abroad.
So, a year in advance, I bought tickets to their summer 2022 performance at the O2 Arena in London, booked my flights, and created the itinerary of my dreams, complete with tickets to see a limited run of “Legally Blonde” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre and a stop at the London Zoo.
If I was finally going on my first solo trip, I was going to make the most of it — and I was glad to be in an English-speaking country that seemed packed with things to do.
As I boarded my flight, I was almost more excited than nervous. But by the end of the trip, I knew that even the promise of seeing my absolute favorite artist live wouldn’t make me choose to travel solo again.
Despite being so well-prepared, I was much lonelier than I’d anticipated
When I arrived in London, I didn’t struggle with any of the actual logistics of getting around. I live in Manhattan, so I know how to navigate a big city and read a map.
However, I struggled with being alone.
I’d sit down at a restaurant, order quickly, eat, and leave. When I was browsing stores, I didn’t have anyone to ask for a second opinion. I started to miss the sound of my own voice.
I didn’t realize how much enjoyment I get from sharing moments with others. There were so many long stretches where I struggled to figure out how to fill the day, despite building my dream itinerary.
More than once, I’d end up back at my hotel earlier than planned, not because I was tired but because I didn’t know how to build a night for myself. I slowly realized thinking I’d thrive for seven days might’ve been a little presumptuous.
However, the concert itself was nothing less than a religious experience. I was so happy to finally see Little Mix live, but I have to admit, I’d imagined the night going differently.
I hoped I’d be surrounded by fellow gays who would take notice of me all by my lonesome, only to fold me into their group. However, I ended up being seated next to a very sweet mother and daughter, who were nice enough to take a photo of me.
After the encore, I grabbed my merch and left the stadium with nowhere to go except — you guessed it — my hotel room.
The next morning, it hit me that I still had three days left. I looked up flights home, but changing them was way too expensive. That’s when the tears started flowing.
I cried because I was lonely, but also because I was embarrassed to be feeling this way in such a magical city.
I don’t regret a thing, though
Things got a bit better once I stopped waiting for my entire personality to magically change during the course of the trip. At the end of the day, I knew I was never going to walk into a bar and make instant friends, no matter how much I craved that outcome.
The lesson from this wasn’t “solo travel is bad.” It was that, at least for me, traveling solo doesn’t bring out the version of myself I like most.
I’m adventurous and willing to face the uncomfortable, but I’m also someone who feels grounded when surrounded by familiar people. Both can be true.
The clearest proof of this came in July 2024, when I returned to London with friends.
I arrived in the city two days early for a little bit of solo time — something I actually looked forward to, knowing what the rest of the vacation had in store — and it felt like a full-circle moment.
Once my friends arrived, the city opened up. We went to my favorite Indian restaurant, giggled through a production of “Magic Mike Live,” and watched football at the pub over pints like locals. By the end, I was genuinely sad to leave.
I don’t regret going to London the first time. With a little self-reflection, I realized it taught me that I don’t need to love solo travel to earn a badge of bravery. I can push myself in other ways and still travel in a way that suits me.
I’ll still explore new places — I’ll probably just bring a friend along for the ride.
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