Solo traveler

For the better part of my life travelling has been what I’m passionate about. Growing up in Winnipeg the “small city big town” left me feeling stifled, like I was missing out on so much. I believed things happen elsewhere, meaningful things, exciting things, important things… and I was just wasting what precious time I had in this pointless, mundane place.

My dream was Paris, everything was Paris, it was calling to me. I finally went when I was in my early 20s all on my own. At the time I was in a long term relationship, but I wasn’t about to share my dream with anyone, all I wanted to do was wander the streets by myself, sit at cafes in solitude… to me being alone meant freedom. Not having to compromise or plan or include anyone else’s feelings or ideas, complete freedom.

This is how I’ve continued through what I now realize to be my entire adult life. I’ve continued traveling this way for years and loving every moment of it, including the 1 whole year I lived in the south of Italy.

I love the non-tourist, laid back way of travelling, I love wandering, I love not planning anything, I love stopping for a drink and a bite to eat, leisurely taking in unknown sites along the way.

I used to enjoy my alone time so much I even liked the hours spent waiting around in airports. It never bothered me, I’d come up with a little routine; bathroom break, find food, nap, people watch… and the time would easily pass, but as I sit here now in the Halifax airport waiting for yet another flight to Paris, the time hasn’t flown by today.

Nearly 12 years and 2 relationships later, I’m finally in a place where I can visualize something I didn’t think was possible, so much so that I had decided I didn’t even want it anyways, someone sitting beside me, someone who’s shoulder I can rest my head on, someone who would make the time fly by with his humor.

I planned this trip when I first met him 1 year ago, in fact I was planning on moving to Italy all together, for the same reasons, choosing aloneness, choosing me. In an unexpected turn of events, I ended up moving across the country to the west coast, rather than across the Atlantic cause somewhere along the way I learned what it feels like when someone chooses you.

He chose me and I finally feel like I’ve got the freedom I was always seeking because I matter and I dont have to give up who I am to be with someone. I’ll never lose myself or my dreams again, because someone who chooses you prioritizes all of those things too.

As I wait to board this flight to Paris, I can actually see him sitting here with me, because I wish he was here, because I finally want to share my life and my experiences… and this all sounds so gross and lovey and roses, or whatever the saying is, but internally it’s very strange feeling things you’ve never felt. It’s scary to want someone to be there cause what if one day they’re not? I still have this idea that love is a weakness.

So here’s the perspective shift… maybe I’ve always craved being alone because the people I was with were never really with me. And the ideas I had about what it means to be free and to be an individual dont necessarily mean being alone.

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