How Solo Travel Changes You

Each of us has a default response to unexpected moments, often without noticing it. I watched mine during a recent trip in Japan, paying attention to where I used to smile and keep moving versus where I'm now stopping, staying in the conversation, and letting things land.

A place moves forward without you while you're away, and so do you. You don't just come home with experiences. You come home as someone who made a series of decisions, and that's what persists.

This episode is set in Japan, a country Damianne lived in for four years starting in 2009. and it keeps returning to a comparison between who she was then and who she is now. The places have changed. The person is different. And both of these change the experience, not just because of the big moments, but through the accumulation of small ones: booking something despite not being sure it's worth it, making an appointment in a language you don't speak, sitting still on a balcony long enough to notice the light, letting someone's kindness actually land.

In this episode:

•  Crossing water to Naganoshima
• The yukata that finally fit
• When the chef paid attention
• Sakura, rain, and the highlight reel
• The coffee shop pause

This episode is for you if:

• you've been somewhere beautiful and caught yourself calculating what would make it better, such as measuring your actual experience against some optimal version that doesn't quite exist, and then having to remind yourself to appreciate what's in front of you
• you travel solo or are thinking about it and you want to understand what it actually changes in you, beyond just the places you see and the meals you eat
• you're a woman over 40 who has a long list of things she's already decided she doesn't like, won't try, or isn't worth it,  and you're starting to notice that some of those decisions were made before you had all the information
• you've had that split second where something unexpected happened and you could engage or exit, and you defaulted to exit before you could think, and weren't quite sure afterward why

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 Wednesday.

Transcript

Engage Don’t Escape

SPEAKER_00 0:00

As I was leaving the coffee shop, a staff member also stepped outside and she said something to me in Japanese. Now, usually when that kind of thing happens to me, I just smile kind of shippishly and carry on because it's easier and I never quite know what to do in those moments. But this time I stopped. I asked what she said in English because I was curious what would happen then. What if I engage rather than escape in a possibly uncomfortable situation? 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 Damian and this is Freedom Looks Like This. Let's get started.

Naganoshima Yes Moment

SPEAKER_00 0:56

Let's first go to Naganoshima. It's a small island off the coast of Nachikatsura in Wakayama, Japan. And the way you get there is by ferry. It's only a few minutes across the water. But I find that crossing water to get somewhere does something to me. Because the moment you're on the water, you can't easily change your mind. And there is something about that sense of commitment that makes you arrive differently. To be honest, I almost didn't book this hotel. I talk a lot about saying yes to things, and the truth is that I often do the mental math before I say yes. One of the biggest questions that sometimes keep me stuck is: is this worth it? Is this the right use of the budget or the time or my energy? And with Naganoshima, I wasn't sure. And I sat with that uncertainty for a few days until I finally booked it. Now it is a little bit pricier, so spending more money there meant spending less money somewhere else. But I told myself, I'm gonna build experience around work. I want to be able to stay in somewhere that's luxurious and be able to have a full experience. And one of the best ways to do that is through the on-zen. The moment I could get off the ferry and smell the ocean, I could feel my shoulders drop and something in my whole body released. And I thought, okay, yes, this is it. This is where I was supposed to be. I am so glad I came. The hotel was great because it had lounge areas where I could sit, where I could set up and work during the day, so I could be in different areas of the hotel, not just in my room. And I wore a yukata for the very first time outside my room on this trip. Now that might sound like a small thing, but it wasn't because at first I wasn't sure if the yukata would fit. Like I'm not a typical size in Japan. Traditional Japanese hotels will often give pajamas, a night dress, or a yukata to wear in the room and even sometimes around the hotel. And usually I can't find one that fits me. And so when I went to Naganoshima and there was actually a yukata that fit, that was a delightful experience. Then once I was wearing it, I wasn't sure if I would go out with it. And then I did. That was another element of liberation. After you do the thing you weren't sure you'd do, you feel more comfortable in your own skin than you did before. I definitely felt that. Have you ever had that happen? I mean, that feeling where the action itself produces the confidence you thought you needed in order to act? Where we really get to see that confidence comes from action, not before. So that was already an excellent experience.

Receiving Delight Slowly

SPEAKER_00 4:08

And then the meals were their own experience entirely. Kaiseke is full theater, and I appreciate it for that. The way each course arrives as its own small event. And even when you have a menu, you might not know exactly what you're getting next. But the thing is, you know that it's going to be interesting, and also the meal has its own pace. It's asking you to follow the pace that is set. And you slow down because you have to. Now, I had requested a 70% portion because I knew that it would be a lot of food. Whenever I have kaiseki, I can never finish it, and I don't like to waste food. But I also don't like to stuff myself past the point of being full. So I was really happy that the hotel allowed me to choose a 70% portion. And even with that, there was still a lot of food. At one point, there was shabu shabu, and it arrived with a small grater and a piece of yuzu. And as I grated the yuzu over the meat, I could just appreciate the smell, the sharp citrus over the broth, and it was lovely. I thought I wasn't expecting to do any work during this meal, but it was actually quite fun and added to the experience in this case. At some point during my first dinner there, the staff brought me extra meat. I didn't ask for it, it was a gift from the chef. Someone in the kitchen had been paying attention to me, and they'd noticed how much I'd enjoyed the meat and decided to bring me some more without being asked. I let myself receive that. It was another opportunity for me to experience delight and for me to savor it. Now I know it sounds obvious to say thank you and to appreciate the moment, but I know myself. And I am much more comfortable being the one who gives and adjusts and makes things easier for other people. So being on the receiving end of someone paying attention, really receiving rather than managing the experience, it's something I'm still practicing. And I'll be honest, the meat was delicious. So it was relatively easy in this case to be like, thank you, I appreciate it. Compliments to the chef. There was just one thing that complicated the trip. And I want to be honest about it. So from my room and from the shore, even from the restaurant where I had breakfast, I could see dolphins in enclosures in the ocean. And the staff mentioned that they get lively at mealtimes, and they did. They were jumping and playing, and it was beautiful to watch. One of my best memories of travel is from Bali. I went on a boat trip at dawn in Lovena, and we were in the path of hundreds of wild dolphins. And they played all around us completely free, and that memory was with me the whole time I was watching the ones at Naganoshima. I didn't go on any tours to visit them, and even watching them from a distance felt a bit complicated. I didn't try to resolve it because there was really nothing for me to do. Like I was already at the hotel, I'd already paid for it. I gave in to the experience and enjoyed it. And there were lots of things to enjoy. One afternoon, as I took a break from work, I sat on the balconies and it was enclosed in glass, and there was a massage chair. Now my default in those moments is to pick up my phone and read or scroll or do something that feels light, but that is still taking me out of my body. And this time I put the phone down and I close my eyes and I stayed there for a while without thinking about anything, not planning, just being present in my body. It always pleasantly surprises me when I can do that. The reason I find it fascinating is because my mind is often busy and I always feel like there is more to do than I have time. So to be able to make space to just be and have my brain be still feels like a gift. And I really need to make more space for that. Where are you noticing that you're making intentional decisions to do something a little bit different than what you typically would do?

Returning to Japan Changed

SPEAKER_00 8:54

It's kind of funny because I was thinking about little Damien. I lived in Japan from 2009 to 2013. That's who I mean when I'm talking about little Damien. Like I wasn't so little, but I have grown so much in the 12, 13 years since then. And so on this trip, I was thinking a lot about who I was then versus who I am now. Do you ever do that? Do you ever go back somewhere you've lived or somewhere you've spent significant time? And you find yourself almost haunted by an earlier version of yourself? Maybe you notice where she would have gone and what she would have said, where she would have been delighted, and how she might have behaved differently. Because my friends joke about this, but the younger Damien had a lot of rules. I don't have a problem with rules. I still have rules. But younger Damien, she had even more rules. There were things she didn't like, things she wouldn't do, things she had already decided about before she even arrived anywhere or tried anything. And it was also a reality that little Damien was less financially independent than I am. So sometimes she was optimizing for price instead of value. So when little Damian lived in Japan, a lot of what she did for fun around Japan was driving to places outside of Nagoya. And at first she tried to make the most out of every weekend going with friends on long drives outside of the city. But gradually she did less and less of that, and life became more about cafes and hanging out with friends. In fact, that is so easy to do in Japan because cafe culture is a big thing. And you can buy magazines that tell you new restaurants, different types of restaurants. And so there are lots of places to discover. One of my favorite memories is as just driving in Japan. My friend was driving, and at some point we realized that we were following Google Maps, and we were driving on a very narrow lane, and to either side of us, rice had been planted. There was no way to turn around. All we had to do was keep going forward until the end of the lane. Little Damien had lots of fun in Japan, but it was very different from this trip. So for example, I was a pescatarian then, which wasn't much of a problem because a lot of Japanese cuisine is built around dashi, which is a broth made from fish and kelp, and it's in almost everything. But you know what else they add to a lot of Japanese cuisine? Ham or bacon flavor. So often I would ask if something was vegetarian, and then when I ate it, I would be like, oh, this tastes of ham. And I would be told, Oh yeah, there's some chest for flavor, which completely missed the point. So before when I lived in Japan, I was very careful and particular about what I ate. I would say no a lot. Because I really couldn't be sure about what was in food. This trip, I wasn't vegetarian anymore. And so Japan just opened up in a way I genuinely was not prepared for. There were so many flavors and textures and combinations that I never had before. At some point I found myself thinking, why have I never had this delicious thing before? And I had to remind myself, oh, it's because you were pescatarian when you lived here before. So there's no way you would have eaten this. So I think about that a lot, how constraints can be a form of creativity, but they can also close off opportunities and experiences. And you don't always notice that until the constraint is gone. Of course, well, maybe not, of course, but there are still foods that I don't like. I'm not a big fan of NATO. I don't like okra. I could go on. And I'm not performing enthusiasm, I don't feel, as I'm experiencing food and places. That's not the point. The point is that I want to arrive in a way that's curious now. I want to try first and decide after instead of deciding in advance. And that's a bit different from who I was before, not just in Japan, but in my life generally. I also made appointments while I was in Nagoya. I had a facial, went to a chiropractor for a massage, and I knew that communication would be difficult. A lot of us talk ourselves out of experiences like that where we know that it might be complicated to communicate. And often we come up with a reason like, oh, it might be uncomfortable, I'm not sure how it will go. I wonder what you would have done in this situation? Would you have made those appointments in a new country where the staff might not speak English? Or would uncertainty have been enough to make you skip it? For me, when I lived in Japan before, we didn't have simultaneous translation in Google Translate. I didn't have Google Lens built into Google Translate. And so now probably so much easier. So for me, it was a no-brainer to have all of these experiences, to go to all of these places. I do let them know when I make the appointment that I don't speak Japanese, but that I'm very comfortable with Google Translate. And in each of those cases, the staff replied to let me know it was not a problem. There were some people who refused my appointment because I didn't speak Japanese and they don't feel comfortable in English. And that's fine. I just really enjoyed the fact that I was able to go to the chiropractor. And as I was leaving, he looked at me and said, Demi Hansan, come again. I thought that was so great. Because I had braced myself for the awkwardness. And what I got was being welcomed by name, being invited back. And the facial was similar. She knew a little English and she said a few words as she went through every step. But then afterwards, as I was having tea, she started making conversation. She took out her phone and translated using Google Translate. And I did the same. And we were able to have a conversation back and forth for a while. Where I was from, where was I staying? How did I like Nagoya? What attracted me back to Japan? I found out she was from Isejingu, where I've been, which I visited when I lived in Japan before. And she also made some recommendations of Japanese food. Local Nagoya food for me, because Nagoya is mostly known for food in Japan. It's so funny because I remember Japanese people being very professional and courteous when I lived there before. And that is still true. But this also felt different. This was friendliness. She chose to go the extra mile to be able to communicate with me, and she didn't have to. So I found myself wondering after what's changed? Is it the country? The people? Me? Probably all three, right? But here's what I know. You can't go back to the same place twice. Especially not 12 years later. The place changes and you change. And so when you arrive somewhere that you've been before, you're not really going back. You're arriving somewhere new in a place that's been moving forward without you. I hope you don't think that I have everything figured out, because I most certainly don't. And I don't want to give that impression either. For example, I saw some photos and videos on social media. And so I went to Okazaki to see the cherry blossoms at night. They were beautiful in the rain, but also there were nothing like the photos that I'd seen on social media. I was a bit suspicious that there were probably photos that get reused and reposted until they become like a dream of what a place should look like. But I had absorbed that without realizing it. And the real experience was quite different. It wasn't as dramatic as the photos showed. It wasn't as perfectly lit. And the thing is, I had to do a bit of internal negotiation to let that be enough. At first I was disappointed. Then I had to remind myself, Demian, you're in Japan. You're seeing these beautiful cherry blossoms lit up with all the artifacts of Japan and a beautiful castle. What makes that not enough? You don't even believe in perfection. Why are you expecting perfection here? Isn't that kind of funny how we can get so easily drawn in to what we see on social media? And somehow that makes reality less interesting, less beautiful. It somehow takes away from the experience of real life. Similarly, I had to fight the self-criticism that I was leaving Japan on March 27th. Because if I'd stayed a few more days, then I would be able to see fuller blossoms and it would be more dramatic and I would have better photos. So there I was in a beautiful place walking around Nagoya Castle and Yamazaki River. And I was already calculating what I was missing. I was trying to measure the experience, my real beautiful experience, against some optimal version of it. Have you ever found yourself in that situation where you're standing in something good and you're thinking about what would make it better or what's missing? Again, I had to remind myself, Damian, look at these blossoms around Nagoya Castle. You got to go to Okazaki and to Yamazaki River twice. You got to enjoy the blossoms along tree trunks and over rivers. You got to see branches in full bloom. You got to see blooms just starting to open. All of those have great beauty. One of my favorite things was just watching the blossoms moving in the wind. Like it's so ordinary, but so beautiful when that light filters through. I lived in Japan for four years and so I've had picnics on the full blooms before. I know what that is. And I also know that waiting for sakura or searching for sakura is a bit like waiting for a ripe avocado. It's only at peak for a few days, and you can plan for it and still miss it. And that's just the nature of it. And yet, I'm still practicing appreciating my actual experience over the version of it that would make a better photo, a better post. Because the apps know where you are and they start showing you posts about the place you're in, and the subtext is always the same. Don't you want this? Isn't what you have a little bit less than what it could be? And I have to keep reminding myself, I already have an amazing life. And it doesn't have to look like the highlight reel. It looks like reading a book while basking in the light of a setting sun. I don't even have to be watching the setting sun directly for me to enjoy the ambience and the experience. It's doing laundry, so my suitcase is mostly clean clothes when I get home. And sometimes it is doing something that everybody else did too. Like taking a photo at the lonely tree in Sapa with a crowd of people waiting to do the exact same thing. But then going on a hike through rice terraces and seeing only one or two other people in like three hours. It's all of these things. And there's no perfect version. Your optimal is not the same as mine. And what does it even mean to chase optimal? I want to allow enjoyment. I want to notice joy. And I keep having to remind myself of that still, even now, even at the age of 46. But I am better at it than I was before. I would not have had the words to say this in this way 12 years ago. But also the practice never ends. You don't just arrive and never have to think about it again. But you do get better at it with practice.

Small Choices Shape You

SPEAKER_00 22:02

So let me come back to that coffee shop in Shirahama because I left you there at the beginning of the episode, and I want to tell you what happened. I stopped and I asked what she said in English just to see what would come next. And it turned out she spoke English. And we ended up having a proper little conversation, just standing out there on the street, and she asked where I was from, how long I was in Japan for. And I found out she is originally from Shirahama and actually had an English teacher from the Czech Republic. What are the odds? And it's kind of funny because when I walked away, I had this feeling that in another life, in another lifetime, we would have been friends. So imagine what I would have missed if I just smiled and kept moving. I don't just mean the conversation, because in one sense it can just be a brief chat on the street and it wasn't profound. But what I would have missed was the confirmation of something I'm still learning about myself, which is that I want to be somebody who notices opportunity, who stops, who can slow down, who gets curious rather than escaping, who lingers in the moment longer than I strictly need to. What about you? Think about the last time you were somewhere unfamiliar and something happened that you didn't quite know how to respond to. And you had that split second where you could engage or you could exit. What did you do? And how did you feel afterward? Because I think we all have a default, and most of the time we don't even notice it. Traveling alone is one of the best ways I know to start seeing your defaults clearly. Because there's no one else there to fill the silence or smooth things over. And so you get to see yourself quite plainly just choosing. You get to see yourself tuning in instead of out. And that's the shift that I keep noticing in myself. What other people define or post, it doesn't determine my experience. Yes, that pull is still there, I can feel it, but it is softer. And just from it being softer, there is more space for me. There is room for that massage chair on a balcony, or for using Google Translate over tea, or for stepping outside a coffee shop and pausing because someone said something and you were curious what it was. And when it comes right down to it, it means that there is room to savor, to delight, and for open possibility. I talk about travel changing people, and it does. I strongly believe that. Because I don't think it's the destinations or the views or the meals. I don't even think it's the big decisions. I actually think it's all of the small decisions that have the biggest impact. It's the ones that happen every day when you're alone somewhere that you're unfamiliar, and there's no one else to tell you what you want or to fill the space for you? Do I book Naganoshima even though I'm not sure it'll be worth it? Do I go for that two-kilometer hike? Do I stop and enjoy the food spa or the hand spa? Do I make the appointment even though I don't speak the same language as the staff? Do I let the chef's gift land without deflecting it? Do I stop outside the coffee shop and talk to a stranger? When do I put the phone down? These decisions made over and over, they leave something behind, a kind of residue that changes you, that shapes you. So here is what I want to offer you. You don't just come home with experiences. You come home as someone who made a series of decisions. And the question isn't, what did I see? The question is, who was I while I was there? That's the thing that persists. I'm much more in my body now than I was 12 years ago. I am more present. I am more grateful. I pay attention to savoring and delight. This trip was intentional. Every part of it had the context of pleasure and learning and integration. And that intentionality didn't just shape what I did. It shaped who I was inside the moments of the trip. The reason I have the words to explain this now is because I've done work with myself. I've built values and gotten to know myself in such a way that I'm grounded. I am someone different from who I was, and this trip really emphasized that in all the small moments that I experienced. For example, after four days of sharing a space at co-working with an older Japanese gentleman, we never had a conversation, but one day he shared some dark chocolate with me. That was a very pleasant surprise, and I enjoyed it. I have so many examples of these small moments that created a trip that is so memorable, that was so enjoyable for me. Here's what I want to offer you before we finish. Think about a decision you made recently that you wouldn't have made a few years ago. It could be a small decision that no one would even notice, but you notice. Maybe you stayed somewhere longer than was efficient, or you ordered something that you couldn't identify on the menu. Maybe you made an appointment even though you were not sure what the experience would be like or if you would like it. Or maybe you slowed down when it would have been easier to walk away. It could be as simple as you put your phone down. Do you have one? Does one come to mind? Okay, good. Now write it down. Write it down not as something you did, but as a statement about who you are. Some of my statements are, I am someone who tries first and decides later. I am someone who stays in the conversation even when it's uncomfortable. I am someone who makes space for herself and recharges before her battery runs out. I'm not giving you a journal prompt, it's just a data point, evidence of who you've become, of who you are right in this moment. And I do have an invitation for you. My invitation for you is to notice the next time you're in one of these moments where you have that split second and you could engage or you could exit. Notice which way you go and then notice how does it feel afterward. Do you want to act the same way next time or do you want to do something a little bit different? That's the data. That's how you find out who is the person you're becoming. If you've been thinking about a trip or if you're intrigued now and you want to understand what's actually in the way of you booking it, come join my school community. The link is in the show notes. And thanks for spending this time with me. If something in this episode resonated, choose one small action and try it in whatever way feels doable for you.