To Go Deep, Travel Slow & Go Solo
By: Renee Chen
Tags: Self Improvement, Growth, Life, Travel, Life Lessons

“It seemed an advantage to be travelling alone. Our responses to the world are crucially moulded by the company we keep, for we temper our curiosity to fit in with the expectations of others.” — Alain de Botton, The Art of Travel

Five years ago, I went through a quarter-life crisis. (First world problems, I know). I didn’t need to purchase a red sports car to reclaim the youth I’d left behind, because I was (am?) still young. Instead, I bleached and dyed my hair pink — far more subtle than a sports car, eh? It was a reminder that I can still surprise myself, take control, do something unexpected and different from what had come to be associated with and expected of me. It was a small rebellious act to dissociate myself from the societal roles and responsibilities I’d unwittingly picked up along the way.

I was a couple of years from turning thirty, an age I had previously regarded as “old,” and now that that was within earshot, it forced me to reevaluate and reexamine my life lived thus far. At thirty, I’d lose the “young” in young adult. At thirty, I would no longer be able to disregard the slew of responsibilities I’d artfully put off during my twenties without some contempt or scorn from society. At thirty, every decision would be weighted more heavily than before. Whereas in my twenties, it was almost a prerequisite to give into short-term satisfactions and choose according to what I wanted “right now”, in my thirties, I would come to bear the consequences of some of those choices.

That year was filled with restlessness, uncertainty and anxiety. Thanks to a roster of daddy issues, my life had always revolved around men, for better or worse. By 27, I’d been a serial monogamist for a decade, and because I never learned how to be independent in a relationship, I’d neglected to do all the things I had wanted to do as a young woman. I’d never lived alone, I’d never traveled alone, I’d never had a one night stand, I didn’t invest time into my friendships or into a community, the list goes on.

My greatest strengths had always been my adaptability and go-with-the-flow mentality, but these are not without its drawbacks. Because of this, I always took the passenger seat when big decisions were made, even those that would impact my life. I figured since it was easy for me to adapt to a new environment or situation, I’d let my partner decide where to live, travel, eat or drink, and even whom to befriend. At the time, I thought this was a kind, giving act, but I know now it’s never kind to give someone else the steering wheel of your life. The excitement and novelty might last a few years but it wears off eventually. When it does, you come face-to-face with a life you did not choose, and too often, you’ve become someone you don’t particularly like.

That’s what happened to me. I was ready for a paradigm shift in perspective. And for once, I wanted to call the shots.

So my first rebellious act was to dye my hair pink, and then blue. The second was telling my boyfriend of almost four years that I wanted to move out and live alone; we broke up shortly after. In the months that followed, I quit my job, reinserted myself (however unsuccessfully) into the dating scene, invested time and effort into friendships old and new, accepted an offer for a dream job and met Mr. Right. Yet, the most transformative and empowering decision I made that year was not any of the above. Instead, it was a solo backpacking trip to Cambodia which set in motion the domino effect of knocking down all which no longer served me.