Floating from shore to shore, I am welcomed warmly wherever I land, but the problem with going to new places every time is that there’s never anyone waiting for you at the dock.
Table of Contents:
- Why I’m Writing This
- Surrounded by People, Still Lonely
- Trying to Be Alone
- People’s Person Problems
- A Scattered World of Friends
- Honest Thoughts, No Regrets
My posts have always been very personal and honest. I’ve tried to maintain a balance between cultural experiences and travel adventures — including my personal feelings of being a chaotic solo traveler. Of course, I wanted to keep the spirit of my blog (and myself) up. Traveling has been such a life-changing experience for me that I wanted to promote it as much as possible. While I believe it’s not laid out for everyone, I do think for many people it could be the push they need to find themselves.
That’s why, in general, I focused on positivity. I wrote honestly about things that went wrong — like losing my camera, being lost in Morocco at night without a place to sleep, not having the right visa for Vietnam… but always focused on the good things that came out of it: being helped by strangers, getting local experiences and home-made food, and lingering in the place that maybe changed my perspective on life the most.
Still, it wasn’t always easy to stay as idealistic as I might have come across in my blogs.
Trying to Be Alone
At some point, I told myself I needed to be alone. To figure myself out. It’s something I have never been great at and I thought I had to change that – it’s what people told me. But even when I was physically alone, my mind was always occupied with others. I realized how hard it was for me to actually sit with myself.
I can travel the world with no one I know in the seat next to me, but the first thing I do when I land is look around and scan faces, body language, age, vibe — who could be my friend?
That’s just how I function.
People’s Person Problems
Don’t get me wrong: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. A lot of people have told me I need to learn how to be alone, that I can’t be so dependent on others, and so on. A couple of years ago, that got in my head and made me spiral. I felt terrible about myself.
But then there was one person, my doctor, who told me — very straightforwardly and with a shrug — “You’re a people’s person. You don’t need to learn to be alone. Just surround yourself with people.”
That stuck with me. The week after, I got a tattoo on my shoulder that kind of represents that.
It’s true — I am a people’s person. I love being around people. I even like being alone around people. It makes things easier for me, and I don’t think that’s wrong, or something I need to ‘work on’.
Surrounded by People, Still Lonely
I talked a lot about the people I met, the friends and families I made in every corner of the countries I visited. There were very few moments where I was physically alone.
I remember when I left Flores Island and Mau flew to New Zealand, I thought, this is maybe the first time I’m actually solo in these six months of ‘solo traveling’. And even then, on my second day in Bali, I drove an hour to meet my Australian friend Ciara, and there I met Mia — who I ended up spending a lot of time with. Again, I was surrounded by people.
That’s what I like. It might be my favorite thing about traveling. I always tell people: I don’t really care about places — I care about the culture and the people.
A Scattered World of Friends
So traveling was great for me, right? As a sociable person, it’s easy to meet people and make friends. I was rarely ever alone — just how I liked it.
Except I felt lonely a lot of the time.
Not because the people I met weren’t incredibly nice and engaging. I trust I met a couple of my best friends this past year — people who will remain in my life forever. But all of these friends are spread across the globe. They’re rarely by my side, or it’s for a couple of weeks until I move on again.
Friends are like a drug to me. I always want – need – more of them. And when I go even a day without, I feel lost and confused. It gets in my head. I have friends everywhere, but they’re never where I need them most. Because I need them most when they’re not there — if that makes sense.
I remember when I missed my flight to Vietnam. I stayed in the airport for almost three hours, unsure what to do or where to go. I called my mom, crying. I told her, “I have no one. I’m barely ever alone, but I’m so lonely.”
And I meant it. I had people around me all the time — strangers sitting next to me, drivers taking me places, new friends I met every week. But in that moment, none of them were my people. No one to fall apart in front of. No one to look at me and know exactly what I needed without asking.
Walking through a dark neighborhood by myself, getting lifts from strangers, navigating chaos and figuring things out on my own — none of it scared me. But sitting in a crowded airport, realizing I had no one to ask for a hug without needing to explain why, that even the strongest connections I’d made were still so new. That was scarier than anything else.
Floating from shore to shore, I am welcomed warmly wherever I land, but the problem with going to new places every time is that there’s never anyone waiting for you at the dock.
In Ubud, for example, I found great friends. Everyone was easy-going, trustworthy, friendly, funny. Mia, in particular, was someone I felt comfortable with right away. But all of these people had lives that go far beyond me. And when that realization suddenly hits — that I’m not part of their everyday, their plans, their history — it’s an incredibly lonely feeling.
Honest Thoughts, No Regrets
None of this means I would do things differently. I’ve never felt more alive than when I was on the move. But that doesn’t mean it was always easy.
It’s just worth sharing that solo travel isn’t always magical. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s depressing. And sometimes it makes you ache in places you didn’t know existed.
But it also teaches you what kind of person you are when the world around you is always shifting. You realize what you need and crave most and that it’s okay that it might not be similar to everyone else.
Tips from This Blog
- There’s no “right” way — If you need people, find them. If you need space, take it. Do what works for you.
- Lonely doesn’t always mean alone — You can be surrounded and still feel empty.
- Solo travel isn’t therapy — It might help, but it doesn’t automatically fix what’s inside.
- It’s okay to need people — Wanting company isn’t a weakness. It’s human.
- Your community can be global — But that doesn’t mean it’s always enough. Find ways to ground yourself.
CelsAway 
Leave a reply to Celestine Decloedt Cancel reply