It is my firm belief that everyone travels for some of the same reasons. However, it is also my firm belief that everyone travels for some different reasons. When I really sit down and pick through all the thoughts in my head I can think of countless reasons that I enjoy traveling, some of them more typical than others.
Like so many people, exploring new places is a prominent reason for me. Seeing things for the first time with my own eyes, despite never being able to be the first to discover them. Learning about new and different cultures. Broadening my experiences and knowledge so that I can better understand myself, my fellow man, and everything around us. Pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone. To grow as people we must be pushed, and the easiest way to do that is to push ourselves. Tasting new foods, hiking different trails, feeling the vibes of a city we have never been to… The list of reasons we can all relate to could go on forever. But, honestly, those all feel like the easy answers. They feel like something I would say in order to avoid diving into the real reasons…
For a long time, traveling felt like the only way I could feel appreciated. I would often choose traveling alone and meeting new people over diving deeper into preexisting relationships with friends. The depth scared me, and it seemed like if someone saw who I really was they wouldn’t come back. It happened a few times, so it seemed like a logical reason to go off in search of new acquaintances in order to protect myself from the potential hurt of being let down yet again. People seemed to enjoy talking to me at first but without a doubt, many decided their life would be better without me in it. Few cared to be loyal through my rough patches. So, I traveled in order to feel loved, even if it was only for a single conversation at a time.
Things have changed, however. Over the years I have moved into a place where I crave depth over breadth in my friendships. I have moved on from fair-weathered friends, and not shied away from showing my true self. If they don’t want to accept that, so be it, but I’m not going to run from it any longer. Life is too short.
So now, I tend to fall back to the typical reasons for travel, but with new eyes. Realizing that it could be an escape, yet not letting it be that. I could keep these experiences and wonders for myself, but that starts to feel selfish. There are wonders out there that I have been blessed to see and others have not. So I have places to show. There are adventures that I have been gifted with. So I have experience to share. There are places that are overlooked, and unknown, with some of the kindest and most generous people I’ve ever known. So I have stories to tell.
And that, is why I travel.