Why I Love Traveling Alone

An article in the Huffington Post posted about a month ago titled 'Yes I'm Pretty and I'm Traveling Alone' seems to have ruffled the feathers of a lot of their readers. Aside from the fact that the article's sole purpose was to be click bait (which worked of course), the premise didn't make any sense to me, an ardent and almost exclusively solo traveler.

Why would any anyone who has the balls to travel alone give a damn what anyone had to say about it? That's the first prerequisite to becoming a solo traveler, being someone who values their opinion more than the opinion of others. Who else would have the courage to throw all caution to the wind and explore the unknown on their own with abandon? It doesn't mean that you're oblivious to the risks, it just means that you are savvy enough to know that bad things can happen to you anywhere (even at home) and that no matter what happens, you are confident that you'll find a way to deal with it.

I also call BS on the notion that pretty solo travelers incur more judgement from others for their choice to go it alone. The inference is that the only reason someone would travel alone is because they couldn't find anyone to go with them, presumably because they are unattractive. On the contrary, most solo travelers just want the opportunity to do what they want, when they want without having to compromise. While it's nice to share experiences with others, I can't imagine being tied to the hip of someone else for more than a day, it would be absolute torture. I love the freedom of going wherever the mood strikes me, lingering at the painting in the museum that connects with my soul, savoring that cup of tea until the sun comes down, extending my trip for an extra day. That's why I love traveling alone.