reflections from my first solo trip
Taking a solo trip had always been on my bucket list—a personal gift to myself. People often talk about the transformative journey of solo travel, how much it changes you and shifts your perspective—and it does.
Five weeks in Southeast Asia, mostly on my own, was a period of deep reflection, self discovery, and an opportunity to heal by navigating my emotions instead of running from them. Mornings were spent sipping coffee in cozy coffee shops, observing, thinking, and journaling. I journaled more in those five weeks than the entire year of 2023 - writing about the privilege of holding an American passport to the concept of home, reliving core childhood memories triggered by laundry air-drying on balconies to the geopolitical landscape of the cities I visited. I hope my therapist is proud.
While the healing aspects of my trip will have its own post, here are reflections from moments of solitude:
Human connection is the foundation of creating more change and more love in this world
One of the most touching moments happened during an excursion in Ho Chi Minh City to Can Gio where I sat next to a multigenerational family from Singapore. The lunch was a traditional Asian style banquet, where all the dishes sat at the center and shared by everyone. The grandpa kept telling me to 多吃一点, to eat more, to even putting food on my plate. Simple gestures from a stranger that was the universal language of how my Chinese parents said “I love you” without actually verbalizing it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of love, not just romantic or platonic love, but the energy, care, and kindness that we put into the world. Small gestures are reminders that our human connections transcend distance, time, race, and class. When we see each other for who we are - human beings deserving of liberation - that’s when we can build a more equitable world.
You have to feel your emotions to get through it
Sitting in grey areas doesn’t necessarily make the moment negative. Sometimes, grey is just grey, and that’s okay. There’s no urgency to “fix” or address it immediately. Perhaps the reason emotions linger is because we’re supposed to sit with them, embrace them, and reflect on what they are telling us. We’ve become a generation afraid of feeling, yet emotions are what makes us alive. We don’t always need to analyze how we feel; we just need to feel more.
As someone raised in a tumultuous household where we couldn’t show negative emotions, whether it be sadness, disappointment, or anger, it’s been a journey in understanding my emotions as an adult and learning how to handle them. I tend to panic when I feel strongly - which is often - but I’m learning to just sit and let the moments play out by itself.
Intergenerational trauma is important to acknowledge. Intergenerational healing is even more important
Someone once said to me, “If there’s intergenerational trauma, then there’s intergenerational healing,” and that line is tattooed in my soul. I often think about my parents, their parents, and my grandparents’ parents, and all they had to endured. All the trauma that they didn’t even know they had that’s still stored inside their body and minds. My parents who don’t even believe in physical therapy, let alone general therapy. I’m so entrenched in the generational trauma that they left behind that it’s easy to justify things that happen in life because of that.
What I’ve realized is that breaking the cycle needs to be active and a mental narrative shift. Trauma stays with us forever, but how we react to what’s been done with us can shape our healing journey. We can’t control what’s happened to us or our ancestors; we can only choose how we respond and the ways we respond. And healing from that can look like going back to your homeland after two decades or eating food from your childhood that you got bullied for. I’m doing this work now so the generations after me can set boundaries, communicate healthily, and feel liberated.
Not everything needs an immediate response. And not everything needs a response
As someone who gets anxiety from the numbers that show up on unread inboxes, I’ve always been quick to respond to emails and texts, and returning phone calls. That pressure in itself would give me anxiety because I felt the need to answer promptly. Having a 12-15 hours difference from my normal reality in the States made it challenging to talk to people I’m used to talking to every day. Solitude is essential, to just sit and do your own thing without interruptions.
I also view this in the way of when someone hurts you or does something wrong to you. No response is a response, and sometimes their action or lack of accountability isn’t deserving of the energy you pour in. This lesson is probably one of the toughest to put into practice.
Do things without qualifying it
In a capitalistic society, we’re conditioned to believe that we should only do things we’re good at. But what if we did it just for the love of it? It’s so important to do activities without attaching qualifiers to them, not measuring our success by how good we are at it, but how much joy they brings us. Whether it’s tennis, painting, yoga, ceramics - qualifying it steals the happiness and enjoyment.
I’m not saying that my tone deaf self is going to audition for America’s Got Talent, yet if I enjoy painting or running but can’t be the next Frida Kahlo or Usain Bolt, it shouldn’t stop me from doing it. Let’s just starting doing.
Perhaps they say solo traveling is transformative because of all the moments of solitude you have—away from the demands of everyday life. Instead, you can pour that energy into yourself for once. Or maybe it’s the sights that you see that remind you of how delicate the Earth is and the people that you meet who show the abundance of compassion around the world.
Now the question is, how do we continue to show up for ourselves and the communities around the world?
A reminder that it’s a genocide, not a war, and we still need a permanent ceasefire in Palestine. Demand one. And support Palestine through third spaces or via urgent funds.