Solo Trips Don’t Feel Like a Choice; My Only Option As a Single Woman

I’ve spent a long weekend in Paris, watching the Eiffel Tower light show with my best friend. I’ve traveled around China and Hong Kong for a fortnight as part of a school exchange trip. I even once jetted to Ibiza for a week of sun, sea, and shots with a colleague.

Alongside the fridge magnets, I’ve collected shared memories that I’ll reminisce about forever. I’ve always enjoyed seeing the world with loved ones, but as a single woman in my 30s, it feels like those days are behind me.

The older I get, and the more single I remain, the harder it feels to find anyone to travel with. If I want to see the world, traveling alone isn’t just a choice — it’s a necessity.

Things started to shift after my college graduation

All of a sudden, after graduating from college in 2014, I seemed to be the only single person in my friendship group.

Friends were moving in with partners or getting married, and seemingly more eager to spend their time — and money — on romantic getaways, rather than trips with me. Then, they started having kids, and family summer holidays became the priority.

There were still people who wanted to travel with me, but I usually had to compromise, paying more than I could afford or going for less time than I’d have liked.

I often felt like I had to prioritize their availability over my own schedule and budget, or become a third, fifth, or even seventh wheel on a couples group trip. That would usually mean a single room and, therefore, a higher cost for me — unless there was a sofa bed.

I started solo traveling out of necessity

In 2019, I decided I was done waiting. I wanted to travel without being the uncomfortable single friend, so I booked a flight to New York and a hotel room for one.

This was a bucket-list destination for me, but I was worried I’d be lonely. How would I handle eating at a restaurant with nobody to talk to, and would the nights feel too long while I was in a different time zone?

To ease myself in, I planned to visit during a week that I knew a friend would be in the city with her family. We met up a couple of times out there, and I also grabbed a drink with an old colleague who relocated. Knowing there were people I could call on definitely helped.

I was nervous eating my first meal alone, but I quickly realized that nobody was paying attention to me. I caught up on my reading and watched the chefs at work.

After just a couple of days, I was a pro at dining solo. In fact, I started enjoying the freedom to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

My New York getaway proved to me that I don’t need a companion to have fun. In the years since, I’ve gone to Toronto, Lisbon, Scotland, and back to New York alone, and also traveled to Brighton, Margate, Wiltshire, and Harrogate within my native UK.

As much as I enjoy solo travel, there are downsides, too

I’ve loved booking a flight on a whim or nabbing the last single bar seat at a hyped restaurant. However, there are moments when I wish I were sharing these experiences with somebody.

These memories are mine alone, never becoming shared jokes or anecdotes. There’s nobody else to take over navigating a new city when I want a break from being independent, and I often spend evenings in my hotel room — cocktail bars aren’t exactly set up for women drinking alone.

Holidays are also more expensive as a single traveler, without anyone to split the cost of taxis, meals, and a hotel room.

Then, there’s the awkwardness of asking strangers to take my picture. As much as I love a snapshot of my paella, I also want to look back and see myself smiling in the sunshine and be able to share those pictures.

I love solo travel, but I want a balance between total freedom and shared memories. Above all, the choice to travel alone would feel so much sweeter if it were purely that: a choice.