Freedom Looks Like This – solo travel for women over 40 ready to choose themselves

What if I Don't Know Where to Travel Solo

Damianne President – Intentional Travel Episode 22

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0:00 | 14:42

Sometimes people tell me they don't know where to travel solo. I want to sit with that for a moment, because I think that when most people say it, they mean something closer to: I don't trust where I want to go. The destination is usually already there. It has been there for a while. The gap between knowing what you want and actually believing that what you want is the right answer, that is where most of us get stuck.

In this episode:

- The hill in Camiguin
- Banaue and the pressure to do it right
- Ella, the damaged train, and a waterfall from the window
- The guilt of not doing enough
- Writing the place down

This episode is for you if:

  • you've said "I don't know where to go" and suspected that wasn't quite the full truth
  • you've arrived somewhere you really wanted to be and immediately started adding more stops, trying to make it count
  • you're a woman over 40 who keeps putting off a particular destination without a clear reason why
  • you travel solo or are thinking about it, and you think you need more information


In 2007, Damianne went to the Philippines because she saw a photograph of the Banaue rice terraces and something in her said yes. She didn't analyse it or make a spreadsheet. But once she was there, the pressure to do it right crept in: more stops, more sights, moving faster through a place she had chosen specifically to slow down in. 

Nearly 20 years later, a trip to Ella, Sri Lanka repeated the pattern. The train she planned to take wasn't running. Her driver mentioned waterfalls. She changed her plans, found exactly what she needed, and then nearly talked herself out of it anyway because of the familiar voice telling her she was wasting Ella, that she should go see the bridge, get the photograph, do the walk.

The gap between those two moments (Camiguin in 2007 and Ella in 2026) is what this episode is really about. In both cases she already knew where she wanted to go. The harder thing was trusting it.

About Freedom Looks Like This:

Freedom Looks Like This is a podcast for women over 40 who want to travel solo, or who already do and want to go deeper. Host Damianne President explores self-trust, decision-making, and what it actually takes to stop waiting and start moving. 

New episodes every Tuesday. For solo female travelers, midlife women, and anyone who suspects that the real barrier isn't logistics.

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Speaker

I was on a hill in Camiguin in the Philippines, and I was scared. It was during a motorcycle tour of the island, and we had stopped at the stations of the cross, which is a long path that winds up a hill. I had started climbing, but somewhere on the way up, my fear of heights decided to show up. And I remember noticing the path, the gravel and the sand under my feet, and starting to think not about where I was going, but about the way back down, how steep it was and whether I would slip. Most women think solo travel is about being brave or fearless. But it's really about letting go of the expectations holding you in place. This show is about what changes when you stop waiting and take yourself seriously, starting with intentional travel. I'm Damianne and this is Freedom Looks Like This. Let's get started. Something I hear often is I don't know where to go. And I want to sit with that for a moment because I think that when most people say it, they mean something more like, I don't trust where I want to go. The destination is often already there. It has been there for a while. But there's a gap between knowing what you want and actually believing that what you want is the right answer. I went to the Philippines in 2007 because I saw a photograph and something in me said yes. I was living in Khartoum in Sudan, and greenery was not something I had much of. Imagine sand and desert and a lot of brown. There is really beauty in Sudan, don't take me wrong. I walked by the Nile and I saw the desert. There was also beautiful light at certain times, but I was missing a different kind of landscape. And when I came across images of Banaue, the rice terraces carved into the mountains in northern Luzon, I knew immediately that I wanted to be there. I didn't analyze it or make a spreadsheet. I booked the trip. And that part, the knowing, was actually the easy part. The hard part came later. Once I was there and started to feel the pressure of doing it right. Because when you get somewhere you've wanted to go for a while, there's this pull to make it count. So I kept adding stops, more sites, looking at places nearby that I could see. And the result was that I was moving faster a place I had specifically chosen because I wanted to slow down and be in it. So on that hill in come again was really where this idea caught up with me. I was still walking up, but I was already imagining the descent in my head. And at some point I just stopped. I told the guide I wanted to go back down. And he didn't question it. He could see I was struggling and he offered me his hand. And we walked down the steepest part together. And somewhere on the way down, it became clear to me that I hadn't failed at anything. I had just decided I didn't need to get to the top. That was in 2007. I'm sure I traveled solo before, but this one stands out and has a special place in my memory. Because I remember trying to see everything and do everything. I wanted to somehow prove that the trip was worth it and squeeze every possible moment of enjoyment from it. I think about that moment a lot. Not just about the fear of heights, but as the first time I really trusted what I already knew about what I needed. I'm actually so proud of myself that at some point I said to the guide, I want to go back. I'm ready to go back. And he took my hand and we went down together. That moment, not the views, not the sights I ticked off elsewhere on that trip, but that moment, it has stayed with me and I have carried it with me since that time. It is when I decided for the first time that I could remember not to finish something and be okay with it. It was recognizing that I could trust what I wanted, what I needed, and that it was okay for me to stop. Almost 20 years later, something similar happened on my recent trip in Sri Lanka. I wanted to go to Ella, which is a small town in the hill country. It just looked beautiful, and I love trains. There is a stretch of railway through the tea plantations that people talk about as being one of the most beautiful train journeys in Asia. And that really drew me. I love beautiful things, don't you? So I was going to take that train. But then I got to Sri Lanka and I learned that the train tracks had been damaged. So the train wasn't running for most of the section. Now, the main reason that I wanted to go to Ella was gone. A lot of people in that situation would just move Ella down the list or forget about it. But one of my drivers, Thara, mentioned that there were waterfalls on the way to Ella. Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I love waterfalls. And I had told him that at some point during our drive. He also suggested a place that I could stay. And it was somewhat with a dramatic view that he mentioned being in the clouds. Well, he had my attention once more, and I looked it up on booking.com. The price was reasonable, and something about that just felt like an invitation. Whenever things fall together easily, I think, oh, this is like the universe flipping a coin and telling me to do that. And so I changed my plans and I went. What I found in Ella was exactly what I wanted. Now, at some point I decided to look at TikTok and see what people were talking about with respect to Ella. And everybody was talking about nine arch bridge or hiking little Adam's Peak. I did not do either of those. There was a waterfall visible from my guest house, and I could see it without hiking anywhere. I watched the sunset from the communal balcony and the sunrise from my room. And I ended up in a long conversation with three people from the Czech Republic, which is where I live. And we spent time comparing experiences of Sri Lanka and talking about life at home. Sometimes those conversations happen on a trip where it's just easy and a little bit unexpected, and I find it delightful. At some point, I nearly talked myself out of the experience. I started to feel like I was wasting Ella, like I should go see the bridge, do the walk, get the photograph. And that familiar voice came back saying, You came all this way and you're just sitting in your room, you're not going to actually go and see more of the city. But I caught myself and I reminded myself that I'm not traveling for social media and I'm not here to optimize. I was on that trip to enjoy the environment, to have some downtime, to rest. And so what I was experiencing was exactly why I came, exactly what I wanted. There was a waterfall that I could see from a distance, and I would see it from the road on the way back to Colombo. There was a sunrise that was beautiful. I had a lovely conversation. I didn't actually need anything else from Ella to make the trip real or to make the trip worth it. Now I want to talk about the gap between those two moments. Come again in 2007 and Ella in 2026. Because there is a consistent through line running through these two stories that I think is worth exploring. In both cases, I knew what I wanted. In the Philippines, I wanted greenery and I went toward it. In Sri Lanka, when the original plan fell through, I still knew what I was drawn to. Waterfalls, a view, a certain kind of case. And I was able to get that even though the logistics had changed. Now, the harder thing in both cases was actually trusting what I already knew, what I felt, what I knew of myself. On the healing comigin, I needed to stop, and it took effort to actually say it. In Ella, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be, having a slow, comfortable, relaxing time. And I still had to actively resist the guilt about not doing more. So when someone says I don't know where to go, I want to ask gently, is that really true? Because in my experience, there is usually the place that you've been thinking about that has been calling to you. Maybe there's a name or an image that comes up, or there's a particular feeling that you want when you get to that place. Where is the place that keeps appearing in the background of other conversations? Or maybe you've mentioned it casually a few times without ever committing to it. Is there a place that you've been thinking about or that has really been attractive to you when someone else was describing their trip? You don't always know why, but you want to go there. The logic is not what comes first. What comes first is the feeling, the attraction. The gap between knowing and going is almost never actually about information. You don't need more research to make the decision. What usually stands between you and the trip is permission. It's the permission for you to trust your own decision over the checklist and over the sense that you ought to be doing something more impressive or more productive or something that is better planned. The heel income again taught me that I don't always need to get to the top. I need to be honest about what I actually have the capacity for and trust that this is enough. I need to pay attention to my nervous system and take care of it. Ella reminded me of this again, which tells me it's something I have to keep coming back to. And that's okay. These aren't lessons that you learn once and never revisit. They are things that we continually practice. Now I'm aware that I've been telling you my stories, and what I want to do now is turn that towards you. You have your own version of the Philippines. Where is the place that you wanted to go before you had a logical reason for it? Before any planning. As I mentioned before, maybe you saw a photograph or somebody mentioned the place they went in a conversation, and you noticed that you had some attraction, that you keep thinking about that place, that even the name of it excites you. You also have a version of Ella. A time where you were somewhere and you felt guilt for not doing enough, not seeing everything, or checking all the boxes. A time when you had to make a choice, whether to trust yourself or give in to guilt. Now the question I want to leave you with is this. What is the place that keeps coming back to you? I don't mean the place that everybody else says you should go. Or the one that looks great on photos when you look through social media. I mean the one that you have been thinking about that has been showing up for you even when you might have some objections. It could be the one that has been quietly waiting for you to notice it. Because here is what I've noticed. After visiting 75 countries and spending a lot of time paying attention, the pull towards a place is not random. It tells you something about what you need right now, what kind of experience you're ready for, what you're curious about, and what have you been postponing. And when you ignore the pull long enough, it doesn't get quiet. It just starts to feel like general restlessness, like something is off that you can't quite name. Or it becomes that story that you tell of this dream that you once had, and why and who stood in your way. The answer to where is your next destination or your first destination is often simpler than we make it. You already know where you want to go. The question is whether you're willing to trust that. So this week I want to give you something small to do. I want you to write down that place. Write down the name of the place that just came to mind. You don't need to explain it or justify it. You don't need to commit to it with a timeline or a budget. Don't create a list of reasons why it's not practical. Just write down the name of the place and sit with the fact that you want to go there. That's it. That's the first decision. It's not about booking or planning, but just naming the thing you already know so that it becomes real enough for you to be able to choose it. I turned around on a healing income again, and it was one of the best decisions I made on that trip. I have no regrets about it. The guy took my hand and we walked down together, and I didn't miss anything. I had exactly what I needed. You already know where you want to go. The rest is just about following through. Thanks for spending this time with me. If something in this episode resonated, I want to invite you to take that one step. Write the place down. And if you want company while you figure out the rest of it, my school community is where we do exactly that. Moving from the idea to the actual trip. One decision at a time. Come and find us there.