Notes from a slower way of travelling


Solo Doesn’t Mean Lonely: Reframing the Story We Tell Ourselves

Woman reading alone on a white sofa in a sage-green living room filled with indoor plants

The question I get asked more than any other isn’t about safety or logistics. It’s some version of: doesn’t it get lonely?

Here’s my honest answer — sometimes. But not in the way people assume, and not nearly as often as the question implies.

The story we’ve inherited

We’ve inherited a story that says being alone is something to be endured, a gap to be filled. So when women travel solo, people assume we’re either running from something or bravely coping with an absence. Rarely do they consider that we might have simply chosen this — that solitude, done well, is its own kind of company.

Alone is not the same as lonely

There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely, and you only really learn it by sitting inside solitude long enough to stop flinching from it. The first few days alone in a new place can feel exposed, yes. But somewhere around day three, something shifts. You stop performing companionship for an invisible audience. You start noticing what you actually want to do, not what a travel partner would want, not what keeps a conversation going. Your attention gets quieter. Sharper.

Loneliness, when it visits, tends to be brief and specific — a long dinner with an empty chair across from it, maybe. Solitude is different. Solitude is spacious. It’s the thing that lets you hear yourself again.

What to do when loneliness does visit

Loneliness on the road is real, and pretending otherwise doesn’t help anyone. What helps is expecting it, so it doesn’t feel like a sign something has gone wrong. It tends to arrive at predictable moments: the first evening, a rainy afternoon, a meal where everyone around you seems to be in pairs.

When it does, I try a few gentle things before reaching for my phone:

  • Change rooms. Go from your accommodation to a busy square, a market or a café. Being around people, even without talking, softens the edges.
  • Do something with your hands. Write, sketch, or take a slow walk. Loneliness often eases once your attention has somewhere to go.
  • Plan one small connection. A walking tour, a cooking class, or simply returning to the same café tomorrow. I share more ideas in How to Meet People While Travelling Alone Without Trying Too Hard.
  • Call home — but briefly. A short call can reconnect you. A long one can pull you out of the place you came all this way to be in.

Small ways to make solitude feel like company

The women who enjoy travelling alone most aren’t the ones who never feel lonely. They’re the ones who’ve built small rituals that make their own company feel full. A morning walk at the same time each day. A notebook that becomes a kind of travel companion. A favourite table at a local café. Dinner somewhere with a view rather than a full room to face.

If eating alone is the moment that feels hardest, you’re not the only one. I wrote a whole post on it: How to Eat Alone in a Restaurant and Actually Enjoy It.

Staying connected without losing the moment

Travelling alone doesn’t mean cutting yourself off from the people you love. It just means choosing how and when you stay in touch, so home supports your trip rather than pulling you out of it.

I’ve found a simple rhythm works best. A short message in the morning to say where I am and what I’m planning. A longer call every few days, at a time that suits both time zones. In between, I keep my phone in my bag more than in my hand. Constant updates can make you feel as though you’re living the trip for an audience back home, rather than for yourself.

It helps to tell the people closest to you this before you leave. If they know you’ll be quieter than usual, a slow reply won’t worry them, and you won’t feel guilty for being present where you are. Solitude feels very different when you know there are people at home who are glad you’re out there, even when you’re not talking.

What women usually discover

I’m not saying solo travel is lonely-proof. I’m saying it’s not what we’ve been told it is. And the women who try it usually come back surprised by how little they missed the noise.

Frequently asked questions

Is solo travel lonely?
It can be at times, especially in the first few days. Most women find those moments are brief, and that solitude soon feels more spacious than lonely.

How do I stop feeling lonely when travelling alone?
Expect it, build small daily rituals, spend time in busy public places, and plan one low-pressure way to meet people, such as a class or a walking tour.

Is solo travel good for your mental health?
Many women find it restorative. Making every decision yourself, without negotiating or performing for anyone, can be deeply grounding. You can read more about that in What Solo Travel Teaches You That Nothing Else Can.

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3 responses to “Solo Doesn’t Mean Lonely: Reframing the Story We Tell Ourselves”

  1. […] for it in The Case for the Long, Unphotographed Lunch. And if the bigger worry is feeling lonely, Solo Doesn’t Mean Lonely might […]

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  2. […] Solo Doesn’t Mean Lonely: Reframing the Story We Tell Ourselves […]

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  3. […] If the quieter trips are the ones that worry you, read Solo Doesn’t Mean Lonely. […]

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