I Am Alone and You Are OK

Traveling solo is a heady, invigorating experience.

I was introduced to the notion back in 2018 when I found the group Solo Cruisers USA on Facebook.

Intellectually, I know that it was probably not the revelation into which I made it, but there you have it. Finding out that there are others who relished their solitude while traveling was delightful.

So, I gave it a try.

My first solo trip was a 7-day cruise from Boston to Bermuda on the Norwegian Gem. I had only been on one previous cruise, with my mom and my kids. And I found that it was awesome!

I’m frugal. Cheap, whatever. And I love the all-inclusive nature of cruising. Yes, that’s my favorite part. Second is it being out on the water, but that’s another post.

So when I got wind of the idea that I could go in my own cabin and travel on my own schedule, I was definitely on board. I booked that $299 weeklong cruise on a Thursday, and headed out that Sunday. And I did it three more times that Spring. I was (am) hooked.

But to the point of this post, I was alone. And it blew other cruiser’s minds. I also am very fortunate to be self-employed; as long as I have an internet connection, I can work. I make my own hours. As long as I hit my deadlines, it’s all good. I love the flexibility (there are downsides, but again, that’s another post).

So I went alone.

Standing in line one night, waiting for a table in the Main Dining Room, I happily occupied myself looking for a book to read during dinner. As it turns out, though, I did not get very far. I was indeed seated alone, but at a table that did not really qualify as “individual” – it was so close to the tables nearby.

Which turned into a conversation with the two women seated next to me. Which turned into an entire dinner of conversation. Which ended up with a dinner invitation: “It must be so hard to be alone! You can eat with us every night, if you want!”

How do you even respond to such an assumption? Being a people pleaser from, oh, birth, I accepted the invitation as it was meant. We arranged to meet two nights hence at the entrance to the Main Dining Room, and we would all sit and eat together. When I showed up, they had even picked up another “solo” – and we were a merry band of four.

But I wonder: Why is it hard to be alone? I find it much easier than navigating the complexities of relationships, personalities, and pleasantries. Alone, I am always with someone I like. Alone, I am never lonely, like when I’m in a group but not a part of the conversation. And alone, I am always certain that I am safe.

At various points in the past, I have found it hard to be alone. Alone in the middle of the night with a newborn baby was hard. Alone in a foreign country living with a host family I did not yet know and love was hard.

But, lets face it, I’m older now. And I enjoy my alone time, maybe even to the point of pathology.

I travel solo all the time now. Sometimes to work-related places, other times to pleasurable places. Sometimes "with" the friends I’ve made who also go it solo, and sometimes not.

But, no matter how I go, I assure the folks in the Main Dining Room that I am quite OK with being solo. Alone. And, they are OK, too.

In Bermuda

Dinner