“To awaken alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.”
- Freya Stark
I’m an American woman, 32, and working to call Lisbon home. Lisbon will be the third country I’ll be working toward residency. Before Portugal, it was Spain, and before Spain, it was Australia. I moved to each country without a plan and without a partner — just a lifelong dream and burning desire to live abroad. My younger and once more neurotic self would be shocked to hear how cavalier and adaptable I’ve become. (She wasn’t always so carefree and impulsive in her approach to life and its big decisions. But she was also wildly unaware of the power and trust she had within herself to embrace her fears and morph them into opportunities and savored experiences, even if they were on her own.)
My travel escapades started in my mid-20’s when my best friend unwittingly sowed the seed. Following the demise of my 8-year relationship, she convinced me that a one-way trip to Southeast Asia would be the best remedy. No itineraries. No return tickets. Just a gutful of butterflies, an open mind, and a single backpack were her only requirements. I remember how terrified a huge part of me was to embark on my first open-ended journey — leaving my friends, family and place I so lovingly called home. The other part of me couldn’t help but feel a bit thrilled when I hit “click to purchase.” Little had I realized, the euphoric adrenaline rush that came with that click and the anticipation of what would ensue would induce the entry point into a new way of life.
Following in close storyline to the 2010 Hollywood film Eat, Pray, Love, the trip incited my close friends to endearingly and so cleverly coin me with the nickname “Eat Pray Love.” Truthfully, I hated the nickname but I never disputed it since I’d always secretly hoped I’d find “the one” in some serendipitous and romantic way overseas — just like it always played out in those romance movies. But each time I came back to my hometown from my long stints abroad — I came back…single. It brought on a strange sense of inadequacy. Mostly because I was always met with “did you meet anyone?” I carried the inadequacy for a long while, almost letting it deter me from traveling on my own after Spain. It was only after the collective experiences of travel and stories that I’d managed to cultivate that brought me to realize how enlightening my travels were — especially because they were on my own. And if it weren’t for them, I’m convinced I would lack some of the confidence and guts I have to tackle new endeavors, like writing this article.
I’m not writing this to tell you that once I gave up on the idea of romance, the love of my life found me. I’m writing to share that through all of my adrenaline-driven decisions, I’ve found something better than what’s been told by Hollywood romance movies. I discovered a different kind of romance from the one we’ve been told. It’s the one that we make with ourselves. Looking back on the last 6 years of traveling and moving abroad, I’ve come to realize that the truest romance of all lies in the carefree optimism and self-trust a single person discovers when embarking on new paths. It’s one in which we trust in ourselves enough to confront our fears, embark on new journeys and take pride and self-gratification in any, and all of the experiences that unfold. The romance lies in the transcendent self-discovery that blossoms from the beauty of chasing wonder and the belief in hope and possibility.
Solely, in exploring my curiosities, I’ve opened doors to discover unimaginable possibilities. When I’ve depleted myself of habit, I’ve rediscovered the joy in unearthing the simple nuances of new environments like shopping for coffee shops until I find my perfect one or finding solace in photo-documenting and writing about the way lives comparatively are lived. I’ve found beauty in waking up in foreign cities unbeknownst, which oftentimes can feel lonely, but have compelled me to strike up fresh conversations with strangers. Some of the relationships blossomed into exquisite friendships sustained over frequent exchanges of postcards. Others have turned into short-lived but passionate affairs. While other fleeting encounters led to unique experiences like midnight private trips to the top of the Empire State Building or endless nights dancing and painting to blaring classical music in countryside art studios that once stood as sheep stables. I’ve witnessed the beauty in watching humans prove to emerge to be inherently good and willingly volunteer to ride with you through the Portuguese subway till you arrive safely at your destination or who offer to hop on the phone with you to share the insights they’ve experienced with foreign visa processes. I’ve fostered a recognition to indulge in “self-care” and treat myself, especially on holidays, because I’ve had to, I deserve to, and I know best what I like. I’ve cultivated a new kind of confidence by confronting my ideas of “fear” and “failure” by simply trying to start new lives in different cities. I’ve learned to see them as the only opportunities to grow and have come to understand that even though life might not go on as I planned or envisioned, life still goes on. And through application and effort, I’ve discovered my own capabilities; the tenacity I have to fulfill my own desires despite the multiple challenges thrown my way. I’m being patient through the Lisbon visa process which is requiring more Portuguese than the classes I’ve taken have provided me with) but I keep pushing through. I’ve learned to appreciate and take pride in the beautiful life I’ve created because of the countless risks I’ve taken to achieve the experiences I’ve acquired. It is only through courage that we can curate our stories full of possibilities; stories in which we are the lovers of our own lives seeking to satisfy our own souls.
I’ll be honest, I do often find it amusing and sometimes overwhelming that I’m still embarking on self-imposed and drastic new changes in my life at 32. I get so enraptured by the romanticism of living in Europe, it doesn’t occur to me how imprudent and unconventional it is until I’m on social media watching my friends and peers post photos of their recent engagements, pregnancy announcements, job promotions, and real estate purchases. All the while, I’m bi-weekly hunting for short-term rentals on Airbnb, living out of my suitcase, speaking to immigration more often than with family, and feeling proud of myself for ordering a latte and pancakes in Portuguese. It’s not always romantic, and sometimes, it can even get very difficult. Heaps of times, there’s looming self-doubt and worry that sometimes hovers, highlighted in moments where you’re caught standing outside of your Airbnb apprehensively staring up at your unit, waiting for the firefighters to signal for you that it’s ok to collect your belongings (at least whatever is intact). But you cultivate a strength within yourself, and you move past those experiences, sometimes even learning to throw your head back and laugh at how lucky you are. Lucky that even though you left your building with a bad reputation amongst the neighbors who misjudged you for starting the small fire, all of your belongings are ashy, but still intact. You learn to pick yourself up, embrace standing on your own two feet as your own savior and keep going — sometimes with the helpful remedy of a glass of wine and a lavish meal overlooking the Tagus river.
I may still sit with mild uncertainty — I don’t have an idea if my visa will work or if I’ll even manage to find a job. But I think back to all of the risks and changes that I’ve made in life, how frightened I was to have taken them but how they all somehow serendipitously worked out in ways I couldn’t even imagine. Even if they didn’t last as long as I would have liked, they taught me tremendous lessons about myself and life. I reflect on all of them fondly and feel a sense of pride for having taken a chance. I remind myself: the fear to force yourself to step out of your comfort zone lies within the magnitude of how much trust you have in yourself. After all, it’s in troubled and despairing times we find out who we are and what we are capable of.
I’ll admit, it’s not easy to strip yourself of everything you know and move to a foreign country. Just know, the perceived doom that surfaces from acute moments of overthinking and evokes feelings of discouragement will one day, in your most pensive reflections of your younger self, be glorious because you blossomed through it. You’ll look back and see the romance in all of the chances you took in starting over: the feelings of waking up in new cities, falling into random and organic new friendships with people from all parts of the world, and embarking on unimaginable experiences that opened new layers of yourself - layers that unknowingly existed before. You’ll look back and remember immersing yourself in all the endless possibilities and doing it because you wanted to create a life and a story for yourself worth living for.
I couldn’t think of a better fairy tale.
