![[HERO] Solo, Not Selfish: The Art of Traveling Alone (And Leaving the Guilt at Security)](https://cdn.marblism.com/YmMPV9JwVfr.webp)
Let me paint a picture for you.
You’re sitting in a café somewhere in Lisbon. Or maybe it’s Marrakech. Or a tiny seaside town in Croatia whose name you can’t quite pronounce. The point is: you’re there alone, with a warm cup of something lovely in your hands. And nobody, absolutely nobody, is asking you where their PE kit is.
Wild, isn’t it?
If you’re a woman in your 40s juggling kids, pre-teens or teenagers, a career that’s finally hitting its stride, ageing parents, and the never-ending mental load of running a household, the idea of solo travel might feel like a fantasy. Something other people do. People without responsibilities. People who are, well, selfish.
But sometimes, what looks like selfishness is actually self-preservation.
Flash Fiction: The Café in Lisbon
She placed her phone face down on the marble table. It was a deliberate act, almost ceremonial.
The waiter had brought her a galão without her asking, he’d remembered from yesterday. She wrapped her fingers around the warm glass and exhaled.
No notifications. No “Mummy, where’s my charger?” No “What’s for dinner?” echoing from the landing. No client emails marked URGENT (they were never actually urgent).
Just the clatter of Portuguese conversations she couldn’t understand, the screech of a tram in the distance, and the sound of her own thoughts. Finally.
She pulled out her journal, a beautiful thing she’d bought months ago but never opened. The blank page for writing stared back at her. Not accusingly. Not impatiently. Just… waiting.
For the first time in years, she had something to say that wasn’t on someone else’s behalf.
She picked up her pen and began.
Why “selfish” is a word we need to retire
Can we talk about this word for a moment? Selfish.
It’s thrown around so casually, isn’t it? Especially at women, especially at mothers. You want to take a weekend away? Selfish. You want to use your annual leave for yourself instead of school half-term activities? Selfish. You want to sit in a quiet café in a foreign city with nothing but your thoughts and a blank page to write on? How very selfish of you.
The word “selfish” has been weaponised to keep women small.
Think about it. When was the last time you heard a man described as selfish for going on a work trip? Or taking a weekend to play golf with his mates? Or simply doing something for himself? Yet women, especially mothers, are expected to pour from an empty cup indefinitely. To always be available. To never need a moment that isn’t tied to caregiving or productivity. But you cannot give what you do not have.
Solo travel isn’t about abandoning your responsibilities. It’s about refilling your tank so you can actually meet them. It’s about remembering who you were before you became “Mum” and “Boss” and “The One Who Knows Where Everything Is.”
Research backs this up. Solo travel builds independence and resilience that benefits everyone around you. When you navigate unfamiliar environments and solve problems on your own, you develop confidence that transfers to everyday life. You return with renewed perspective and emotional clarity.
In other words: taking time for yourself makes you better at all the other roles you play. That’s smart, not selfish.
The guilt that hits at security
But most times, knowing something intellectually and feeling it in your bones are two different things.
You can read all the articles about self-care and solo travel being healthy. You can nod along and think, “Yes, I deserve this.” And then you’ll be standing in the airport security queue, shoes in hand, watching someone else’s toddler have a meltdown, and the guilt will hit you like a rogue wave.
Should I really be doing this?
What if something happens while I’m gone?
Am I a bad mother?
Let me offer you some tools for when that guilt kicks in.
1. Reframe the narrative
Instead of thinking, “I’m leaving my family,” try: “I’m showing my children what it looks like to prioritise your wellbeing.”
Our children and teenagers are watching us. They’re learning how to be adults by observing how we treat ourselves. Do we want to teach them that adulthood means endless self-sacrifice until you burn out? Or do we want to model healthy boundaries and the courage to take up space?
2. Remember: You’re not irreplaceable (and that’s okay)
This one stings a little, but it’s also liberating. The house will not collapse without you. Dinner will happen (even if it’s cereal). The teenagers will survive. Your partner, your parents, your support system, they’ve got this for a few days.
You are deeply loved and needed. But you are not the sole reason the universe keeps spinning.
3. Plan ahead, then let go
Before you leave, handle the logistics. Meal prep if it makes you feel better. Write down the important numbers. Brief whoever needs briefing. And then release it. Once you’re through security, your only job is to be present. Let the guilt stay on the other side of the departure gate.
4. Phone boundaries are essential
Decide in advance how much contact you want. Maybe it’s a daily video call. Maybe it’s just checking in once a day via text. Whatever you choose, communicate it clearly, and then stick to it.
You didn’t travel all this way to spend the whole trip glued to WhatsApp, solving problems that aren’t emergencies.
The gift of the blank page
When you’re constantly surrounded by noise, the demands of work, the needs of children, the weight of family dynamics, your own voice gets drowned out. You stop hearing yourself. You forget what you actually think, feel, want. Solo travel gives you that back.
There’s something almost sacred about sitting down with a writing page blank and ready. No one else’s agenda. No interruptions. Just you and your thoughts, finally given room to breathe.
Maybe you’ll journal. Maybe you’ll finally start that book you’ve been dreaming about. Maybe you’ll just sit and stare out the window, letting your mind wander without guilt.
Whatever you do with that blank page for writing, it’s yours. Fully and completely yours.
Practical tips for your first (or next) solo trip
Alright, let’s get practical.
Start small. Your first solo trip doesn’t have to be two weeks in Bali. It could be a weekend in a nearby city. A night or two at a coastal Airbnb. Dip your toes in before diving into the deep end.
Choose a destination that excites you. Not somewhere that looks good on Instagram. Not somewhere your friend recommended. Somewhere that makes your heart beat a little faster when you think about it.
Book accommodation with intention. Want to meet people? Stay in a boutique hotel with communal spaces. Want complete solitude? Find a quiet cottage with a bathtub and a view. Your accommodation sets the tone for your trip.
Have a loose plan, not a strict itinerary. Solo travel is about freedom. Leave room for spontaneity: the unexpected café, the unplanned detour, the conversation with a stranger that changes your perspective.
Bring something to capture your thoughts. A journal. A voice memo app. Something. You’ll be surprised what bubbles up when you finally have space to think.
You deserve this
You have spent years: decades, probably: putting everyone else first. You’ve been the organiser, the comforter, the fixer, the one who holds it all together. You’ve shown up for everyone. Now it’s time to show up for yourself.
Solo travel isn’t about running away from your life. It’s about returning to yourself so you can come back fuller, calmer, and more present for the life you’ve built.
So book the trip. Pack the bag. Walk through that airport security line with your head held high. And when you finally sit down in that quiet café, with a blank page to write whatever your heart desires, know this:
You are not selfish. You are brave. You are whole.
And you absolutely, unequivocally deserve this.
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