Taking my first solo international trip dramatically changed my mindset. I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly, but I knew I needed a shift — something that would shake me out of the daily rhythm I had grown too accustomed to. I found it not just in the places I visited, but in the people I met along the way.
The Unexpected Community of Solo Travel
I imagined solo travel to be, well, solo — but that turned out to be one of the biggest misconceptions I had. From the moment I landed in Asia, I began forming connections with complete strangers. Fellow travelers, locals, expats — people from every corner of the world with stories that made me rethink everything I thought I knew about how life could be lived.
I met someone who ran an import/export business and only opened their storefront six months out of the year — the other half was spent traveling. Another person saved diligently for 9 months just to winter in India studying yoga. In Thailand, I danced through the night with people who had built lives entirely centered around adventure and joy. It was humbling. It was inspiring. These weren’t pipe dreams — they were real lives being lived fully, unapologetically.
Connection in the Smallest Things
One night, I found myself in a hostel common room, wrapped in a conversation that started with nursery rhymes. People from different countries began sharing their childhood songs — turns out many of us had the same ones, just with slightly different lyrics. That moment, oddly enough, cracked something open in me. Across cultures, languages, and continents, we had all grown up humming the same lullabies. If that doesn’t say something about the quiet threads connecting us all, I don’t know what does.
What We All Seem to Want
The more I traveled, the more I realized how deeply similar we all are. At our core, humans want the same things — to be safe, to be loved, to feel a sense of purpose. The details vary, of course. But the essence? Strikingly universal.
Travel reminded me that by and large, people are good. Most are kind, curious, and willing to help — especially when you’re a traveler clearly out of your element. It also showed me that the world isn’t as dangerous as we’re often led to believe. In fact, in moments of vulnerability, I witnessed an incredible generosity from strangers — a willingness to lend a hand, offer directions, share food, or simply smile.
The Lessons That Stay With You
I used to think I’d become a minimalist so I could travel. Funny enough, travel made me a minimalist. I slowly stopped needing stuff — not because I forced myself into it, but because the things that used to bring me joy simply didn’t anymore. Not in comparison to the memories I was collecting, the conversations that lingered long after they ended, or the stories etched into my soul by people I may never meet again.
I realized how little possessions matter. Sure, I value financial stability, but luxury or excess? Totally irrelevant to my joy.
Travel also reminded me of one of life’s greatest truths: Wherever you go, there you are. You can’t run from yourself, and you shouldn’t try. But what you can do is use travel to grow, to expand, to understand — and most of all, to connect. With others. With the world. With yourself.
Gratitude, Joy, and the Beauty of Enough
In places where people had far fewer material things than I did, I encountered joy — pure, contagious joy. People who lived simply, yet fully. Who laughed loud, danced freely, and embraced life with both hands. Their contentment made me pause. It made me grateful. It reminded me that the real point of life is to enjoy it — once our basic needs are met, it’s really that simple.
So what did traveling solo in Asia teach me about connection?
That it’s everywhere, if you’re open to it. That even on your own, you’re never truly alone. That we are all — in some beautiful, quiet way — walking each other home.
