I Tried to Fall in Love While Doing a Year of Solo Travel; Found It at Home

“This can’t be all there is,” I thought as I shuffled onto the F train, the Monday morning rush of commuters passing by in a blur as doors opened and closed at each subway stop.

It’s not that “this” was so bad. I lived in New York City, which I, along with millions of others, considered the most dynamic city in the world.

I had a lot of friends across the boroughs and didn’t dislike my job, a high position at an advertising agency that I’d climbed the corporate ladder to achieve.

Yet, I longed for something more. I wanted to be in love. But after years of falling into it and crawling out of it, my hopeful-romantic self was jaded.

At last, I pushed myself to write a new chapter by traveling the world

After another afternoon in my windowless office on Madison Avenue, I realized I wasn’t living my dream anymore. I had to get out.

So, I began crafting my plans to travel all over the world. Within four months, I’d quit my job, sublet my apartment, and promised to meet my mom at our home in Poland.

Sitting aboard the first of dozens of flights, I felt a high, similar to falling in love. This time, though, the feeling wasn’t connected to anyone else.

What started as a six-month journey quickly turned into 13 months on the road.

I didn’t find my soulmate abroad, but I fell in love with the countries I visited

One unforgettable experience after another became the script for my nomadic life as I fell uniquely in love with each of the 32 countries I met, from New Zealand to India.

I spent time on the beaches of Brazil’s Bahia, where I learned to savor living with less. I meditated to the chanting of monks in Tibet, where I learned that language need not be a barrier. I discovered parts of myself on an island in Thailand, where I overcame my fear of water by learning to scuba dive.

I spent most of my time alone, filling pages of my journal. I kept a blog to stay in touch with friends and sent my mom postcards from every destination.

I learned to enjoy my company without looking for distractions; I figured out how to simply be.

As I practiced yoga on the beach during my last week abroad, I wondered what I’d learned by following this path of my own making. Who had I become? Where would life take me next? The epiphany came later.

I was sure I would fall in love during those months spent traveling, and I suppose did — I’d just expected it’d be with a person, not the world.

Once I was home, I met the love of my life

A year later, I found myself walking the same NYC streets en route to yoga, but this time with a lighter and more confident stride.

It wasn’t the city or demands of work (or the capricious men) that had changed. I had, and I’d grown in immeasurable ways.

It was then I met eyes with a man on Prince Street who would change my life. We exchanged a few words and, soon after, a drink over a conversation that flowed just as smoothly. We spoke about our travels and lives and so much more.

I quickly understood that this local Ligurian who lived in Paris but was visiting New York was part of my journey — I’d just needed to learn a few essential lessons about love and life before meeting him.

It’s now 16 years since that fortuitous moment when we locked eyes. Life has delivered its share of plot twists, but we have since gotten married and remain united.

We continue to share the same wanderlust that connected us that first day — and it’s now all reflected in our greatest joy, a little boy with his father’s smiling eyes.