By Grace Kurfman
When I was 23 I flew to Norway with no idea when I was coming back and even less of an idea of what I was doing once I got there. I didn’t even know what the phrase “backpacking” meant! I thought it was only ‘backpacking around Europe’ if someone went hiking through the Swiss Alps, and besides being seriously underprepared, there wasn’t anything special about me.
I didn’t grow up with money, and I hadn’t spent more than 10 minutes alone in my entire life. I grew up in a town in Montana with roughly 10,000 people, I really don’t know why I ended up going, it just felt like there was something ‘out there’ for me and in a way leaving felt less scary than staying where I was. And so, I left and ended up staying three months, visiting nine different countries—Norway, Switzerland, Italy, France, Spain, Ireland, Portugal, Greece, and Turkey.
A lot of my success can be attributed to a Facebook group called “The Solo Female Travelers Network” that I found my first night in Europe eating McDonalds on the heated tiles of my Air BnB bathroom floor, because I was scared to eat dinner alone at a restaurant.
I started searching for Facebook groups of women who might be in similar positions as I was, and it turned out there were – 530,000 of them! I joined a group and hesitantly made my first post: a picture of me eating a bagel in the Minneapolis airport, my ripped luggage on the train, and the view of the North Sea Harbor in downtown Bergen. Being a little paranoid, I lied about the details for safety, expecting to only get three comments.
The next day I woke up to 619 likes and 115 comments.
“I wish I had the guts to explore the world alone at 23!”
“Remember why you’re doing it. Shit’s hard but you’ve already done half the work getting there!”
“Enjoy your freedom!”
Enjoy your freedom. The letters danced in my eyes and trickled down my throat and onto my lips as I smiled at the feeling I’d never fully tasted before; and haven’t been able to let go of since.
During the three months I spent in Europe, I regularly posted in the group asking tips on where to eat, how to get around, recommendations on activities to do, and commenting on other women’s posts. The solo female travelers reminded me who I was and that I might have been by myself, but I was never really alone.
I met one person from the Facebook group as well as a lot of people at hostels. But I think many people, like me, go into solo traveling imagining that you’ll make friends everywhere you go. Which isn’t true. You won’t fully mesh with everyone the way that you want to. I frequently went to bed disappointed when I either went days without talking to someone or didn’t have any conversations that went beyond “what’s it like doing XYZ in your country.” This is kind of how it kind of goes solo traveling. Sometimes the people you meet are only there for breakfast or a conversation at the hostel bar.
But because you say “yes” to hanging out with people and experiences you wouldn’t normally have, you become a more full person within yourself from new people bringing out parts of you that you had no idea were there. You learn to hangout with yourself, and value the rare instances that you’re smoking a cigarette on a fence post in Northern Ireland, actually laughing, with a girl from Canada you’d met four hours ago.
“Yeah, you meet a lot of duds.” She will say to you as you pass her a lighter.
When I got home I had $4,567 credit card debt and $150 in my checking account. I was fortunate enough to be able to move into my mom’s house in Everett, Washington, and when I got there I told myself that I would do whatever it took to pay off my debt and move to New York City. I realized I can do difficult things alone, and it feels really cringey to write this, but somewhere in Greece I realized what I really wanted out of my time in this world. So for 10 months after I got home I worked three jobs and saved up $23,000 to move to the city.
And now I’m here, ironically at a sublet I found through another Facebook group; “Young Females New York City Apartments.”
It’s been two days and I’m probably more scared than I was in Bergen. Which feels really stupid. My sister and her roommate came to help me move and last night, during one of my “what the fuck am I doing?!” panic attacks, they told me I inspired them and was “living proof that you really can do whatever you want in life.”
I like this sentiment, but I don’t think there’s really anything inspiring or special about me that I don’t think anyone else could do if they were interested. I’m just a girl with an anxiety disorder and ADHD who has been terrified of everything that I’ve ever done. But I want more out of life than a 9-5 job in an office, a husband, babies, and I really want whoever else feels the same to know who the fuck they are and that if I can do it, they can absolutely do it too.
The world isn’t nearly as scary as your own mind; dealing with yourself is the real challenge. At the end of the day you’ll be okay, and in moments where it doesn’t feel like you will, there’s literally a Facebook group for everything!
Grace Kurfman is a new writer and traveler, originally from Montana and currently located in New York City. She loves writing about the world and the unique perspectives of people she meets, her cat—Cat—reading about neuroscience, and journaling. You can connect with her on Instagram and Linkedin.
