☕ What I Learned Sitting Alone at a Café in Paris

🌍 The World Abides

First, let me say — I’m a grateful human.
I’ve grown more humble with age and a few detours off the predictable path I was on. It was a great life, sure — but I was coasting, comfortable, and maybe a little too settled.

This story is about the virtue of traveling alone.
You’ll have to stick with me — I inherited my dad’s ability to tell a five-minute story in an hour. But I do get to the point.

🌙 On Loss and Becoming an Adult (Again)

There’s this saying: you don’t really become an adult until your parents die.
I think that’s true. No matter how old you are, there’s comfort in knowing they’re still “there.” Then one day, they’re not — and you realize there’s no one left to catch you if life kicks your ass.

Traveling solo feels a little like that.
It strips away the safety net. You’re on your own — responsible for your choices, your problems, your wins. And weirdly, that’s freeing.

💔 Life’s Plot Twist

After 25 years of marriage, I got divorced.
No one’s ever accused me of being over-intelligent — emotionally or otherwise — but I finally realized something: happiness is a choice. If you want to be happy, make an intentional decision to be happy, forgive, and move forward.

So I did.

My mom didn’t get to see this next part — I wish she had — but I like to think she knows. Her voice was in my head when I started traveling. She was the reason I stopped waiting for “someday.” This was my first solo trip.

✈️ Saying Yes to Europe

Years ago, I’d turned down a chance to live and work abroad.
Most people never get asked once, let alone twice — and I botched the first one. But by some stroke of luck (or cosmic humor), I got another shot.

I could hear my inner voice saying, “either do it or stop pretending you will someday.”
And let’s be honest — “someday” is just another way of saying “never.”

So I said it out loud: “F* it, I’m in.”**

And just like that, I left behind my big comfy couch in Memphis, Tennessee — everything familiar, everything safe — and started over in Amsterdam. This was my first second solo trip- scary and exhilarating a deep-dive into the great unknown.

🇫🇷 A Lonely Walk in Paris

Fast forward a bit. I’d settled into Amsterdam, survived the move,( BTW- Covid hit the world less than 30 days after I arrived in Europe), and finally hit that moment where I thought, I’ve got to do something NOW.

So I booked a trip.
Less than 24 hours later, I was walking alone through Paris — thanks to a loophole in COVID travel rules — on nearly empty streets that normally would’ve been packed with people.

It hit me: how big and small the world is at the same time.
There I was, totally alone… and yet not.
Just one more human in a world full of them — a tiny part of the bigger story.

So I did what any self-respecting traveler does: I bought a Coke, took some blurry pictures, and sat along the Seine watching boats glide by like ghosts. It felt like a rehearsal for my new life. The universe was easing me in gently.

🍷 Dinner for One (and a Few Lessons)

Traveling alone is amazing — and yes, scary.
You’re the planner, the decider, the safety net, and the entertainment. There’s no one else to satisfy, no one else to please. It’s all you.

So what did I do? I walked.
I stared at the Arc de Triomphe like a tourist with my jaw hanging open. I sat on a bench and just was. I ate dinner alone — made a terrible choice, by the way — but hey, the bread was good.

I spent a full day at the Louvre. I love old stuff, so it was heaven. I may have touched a few things I shouldn’t have (sorry, France).

And when it was over, I took the tram, then the train, headed home to Amsterdam, and realized something big: I’d changed.

I did it — for me, by me. No excuses. Just gratitude.

🗝 The Aftermath

Since then, I’ve taken more solo trips — some smoother than others, all worth it.
I learned how to satisfy myself, to get lost without panicking, to find joy in being uncomfortable.

It sounds small, but at my age, it was big.
I slayed some old ghosts. Let go of a few monsters under the bed.

And here’s the funny part — I’m not just a better solo traveler now. I’m a better travel partner.
Because now I know how to make space for what I want without stepping on everyone else’s trip.

The genie’s out of the bottle. The monkey’s out of the sleeve. The rabbit’s out of the hat.
And it’s never going back in — thank God.

💬 Final Thought

Sometimes “just go” doesn’t mean a destination — it means forward.
Whether it’s getting on a plane, taking a walk, or finally doing the thing you’ve talked yourself out of for years — just go.

It won’t always be perfect, but it’ll always be yours. Safe travels, friends.