It’s the last Monday of March. The sun is barely illuminating Lisbon’s candy-colored buildings through the thick, gray-tinged clouds. Though the air is still warm and fresh, and blowing in softly through the open window. If I count back on my calendar, I’ve officially been traveling by myself for 75 days.
Last month, an old co-worker commented on an Instagram of mine asking if I could teach her to be more brave. This question hit me hard, playing on loop over and over in my head: how can I teach women to be brave enough to travel on their own?
I couldn’t quite figure out how to respond because honestly, I don’t feel particularly brave. Or worthy of teaching this thing I don’t feel. Most days, my inner monologue is that of most women I know: “I’m a garbage person with no talent and everyone is going to find out.” So, I let the question rest. I didn’t answer it or disregard it.
This past week, I found myself wrestling with another question any normal, 32-year-old woman wrestles with when a slew of happy engagement + baby announcements pervade her social media accounts: will I ever find a lasting partnership?
It’s a big question, one that comes on the heels of a break-up last year. The truest answer is: I don’t know. And I’ve (mostly) gotten to a good place with that.
Maybe it’ll come, maybe it won’t. In the meantime, I’ve simply decided my desire to do the things I love outweighs any fear I have of doing them alone. I refuse to delay living my one precious life because I don’t have a partner (or a reliable travel buddy, which is equally as elusive). I love to travel, so I’m going to travel. And if you love to travel, you should absolutely travel your damn single lady brains out too.
So, that’s what I got. It’s not quite a fully-formed answer, but it’s getting there. Until then, here are a slew of links for your Monday procrastination needs.
The prettiest spring dress.
Bando’s got new purses, and they are SUH CUTE.
My tennis shoes saw their final demise in Copenhagen, so I bought a pair of these velcro sneaks to replace them.
36 Hours in Fez looks absolutely dreamy.
Speaking of travel, the Citymapper app is saving my life on a daily basis.
A simple trick for stopping vertigo. (via my mom)
I’ve listened to this podcast four times since it aired. Life-changing.
Conscious consumerism is a lie. A depressing, but necessary read.
I love Jenny Slate. “I think it’s really rude for someone to disparage a vagina in the female body after it’s just fucking created and exploded a baby into our world. It makes me furious and I will not change my opinion on that.”