It’s been almost four years since a condo fire sent me packing to Central America for my first-ever solo backpacking trip.
New passport in hand, I flew to Belize to get scuba certified and maybe “find myself” — but honestly, I had no clue what I was getting into.
That first month backpacking was life-changing, but it was also messy, humbling, and painfully lonely at times. I never ended up moving back to the US, and since that one-way flight, I’ve met so many others who hit the road after a major loss.
The tragedy-to-travel pipeline is so real. If you’re thinking about taking your first solo trip after a tough chapter, here are a few mistakes I made that you may hopefully avoid.
Packing everything but the kitchen sink only held me back
I was grieving and anxious when I left, and it showed in my backpack. I ended up lugging around a massage gun, a portable clothes-washing bag, a headlamp, and plenty of clothes that I never wore.
I packed as if Central America had no laundromats or stores, even though they had plenty. Dragging that overstuffed bag onto buses, boats, and up hostel staircases was a pain.
A few comfort items, like a small candle or photos from home, are nice to have, but really, you just need the essentials.
Not doing the necessary pre-travel research cost me
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I was so focused on getting out the door that I completely overlooked basics, like checking visa rules, entry requirements, and my wallet.
First, in a panic at the airport, I had to buy a last-minute return flight to the US just so I could board my plane at LAX. I somehow hadn’t realized proof of onward travel was required to enter Belize (as is the case when flying to most countries).
During the trip, I also lost my only debit card and didn’t have backup methods for paying for things. Western Union was a lifesaver, but asking my parents to transfer money to me was definitely humbling.
Lastly, I accidentally overstayed my 30-day tourist visa in Belize and later got fined for doing so.
Oversharing with strangers wasn’t always the best idea
When you’re traveling solo and dealing with heartbreak, it’s tempting to spill your guts when someone asks a simple question about your trip.
But not everyone is ready to hear your story, and that’s OK. Sometimes I had genuine heart-to-hearts with people I met on my travels, but other times, I felt like a fool for opening up.
The truth is, most people are on vacation to relax and aren’t looking for a sad story. I had to learn to be more discerning about who I shared my story (and time) with.
Discernment is an essential travel skill. And if you’re traveling heartbroken, virtual therapy is a lifesaver.
At first, I didn’t book the right accommodations for my needs
Hostels sounded like a great idea since they’re popular with solo travelers and can be a great space to socialize.
I thought I’d meet fellow travelers, have deep conversations, and make lifelong friends … but the first few places I stayed were full-on party hostels. Guests were drinking and blasting loud music until 3 a.m., which wasn’t my vibe.
I felt like I couldn’t connect with most people I met, so I did some research and started booking quieter, low-key hostels and some private Airbnbs, which changed the whole vibe of the trip for me.
Where you stay on a trip like this really matters — especially if you’re traveling to heal and form genuine connections.
I forgot why I went on this journey in the first place
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Ultimately, throughout the trip, I distracted myself from the reason I had gone in the first place.
I filled my days with scuba diving, touring ruins, hiking, and snorkeling. At night, I’d go for drinks with new friends. Though I was having fun, I wasn’t giving myself space to grieve.
After a few weeks, my feelings came crashing out at the wrong time and in the wrong places.
The ocean can’t fix your pain, and neither can the mountains. They can only hold you while you move through it — and travel can take you to some amazing places where you can really feel it all.
That first month in Belize wasn’t seamless, but it was exactly what I needed. It marked the beginning of a much longer inward journey — one that continues today.
