This year, I took my first solo vacation. I've traveled alone aplenty, but work has been the main purpose—even if I did tack on time at the beginning or end of my stay for a museum or dinner.
I knew pretty solidly where I wanted to head—Travaasa Austin for a return trip—and what I wanted to do—read, write, relax, and rejuvenate—yet I still thought about inviting others, out of reflex. Thankfully, I resisted.
Even if at some point in the future I find a relationship, I'll do the solo vacation more. I loved it.
Traveling solo meant that I didn't have to worry about anyone else for even a second. I did what I wanted, ate what I wanted, and had full control of my space and time. Concern about whether someone felt bored, or annoyed, or inconvenienced didn't need to cross my mind. And it didn't.
Also, I felt no need to appear or act any certain way. I didn't feel self conscious about my activity and food or about how I looked while exercising, relaxing, or wearing my swimsuit at the pool.
Was I lonely? Not for a second. I reveled in quiet. And I enjoyed the times when my free-ranging-ness meant I encountered wonderful people that I luxuriated in getting to know. My first night I sat at the community table and shared a meal with the resort manager and another company executive. Amazing food and the company felt like a treat. The next night, I met a couple of friends traveling together; we shared a few lazy meals and had fantastic conversations.
Did I accomplish my objectives? Let's hold me publicly accountable:
I relaxed, exercised, and ate healthfully. Rejuvenation complete.
I read a sizable book a day. Reading done.
I didn't write as much as I'd planned. I blame my desire to stay as far away from the computer as possible.
Verdict: Two out of three. Not bad!