Last Monday, I found myself alone on the streets of my local downtown city. In those mere two hours of wandering, I learned two very important things about myself: one I am proud of while the other brings me shame. I, however, remain grateful for my sojourning because if I had not been traveling alone, I never would have realized my unknown strength and greatest weakness.

The first thing I learned was that I do not mind being alone—in fact, I quite like it. I am not talking about being introverted or simply enjoying alone time; I am referring to making it alone in the world. I could live my entire life without holding anyone else’s hand or being bound by some contract of love. (I’m not saying that I do not want companionship; I am stating that I do not need it to live a full, happy life.) I am a perfectly competent and independent human being. I love being on my own; it’s simple, freeing and serene. I can take care of myself, and I don’t need anyone else in my life to find fulfillment and happiness.

I discovered my love for solitude as I walked inside one of the city’s glorious libraries. This library consisted of two different buildings, an old historic one and a new modern one. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever stepped foot in. There was something so wonderful about standing on the stairs, looking up at three stories full of bookshelves, as the sun from the gigantic glass windows glistened one’s face. I silently took in this awestriking sight and realized that I could only fully appreciate the view because I had come alone. I was alone, with not one to talk to, no one to distract me from the beauty around me. In that moment, I was content being alone.

I finally pulled myself away from that remarkable library and continued to travel along the dirty urban concrete. I passed buildings under construction, a downtown sandwich deli and a stationary store. My goal was to find a local coffee shop. I walked in an almost perfect circle, disappointed that Starbucks was the only coffee place in sight. My desperation for nourishment increased with each minute, and I decided to stop at that local sandwich deli for lunch; this is where I began to realize the shameful thing about me.

I tentatively entered the sandwich place. Two men, who appeared to be on their lunch break, stopped their banter and looked at me as if I was an unwelcomed intruder. I tried to ignore their stares and focused my attention on the menu. As I studied the different options, I could feel anxiety and terror overtake me. I started to approach the counter to order, but something within me unexplainably snapped. I quickly turned around and left the deli without looking back. I kept walking until I stumbled upon the coffee shop I had been searching for. Excitement and satisfaction rose within me. I peered inside and was about to enter, but the anxiety and fear returned like a vengeful demon. Even though I desperately wanted to go inside, have a cup of coffee, and explore what this place had to offer, I just could not bring myself to.

I walked away feeling defeated. I internally yelled at myself. What was wrong with me? What held me back from visiting both of these new and interesting places? I knew it was not fear of exploring alone. As I entered a familiar downtown mall, I realized what the problem was. I was terrified to try new things because I did not want to appear like an idiot or fool. I loved my autonomy so much that the very thought of putting myself in a new environment where I would be perceived as new or inexperienced absolutely horrified me.

I left the city feeling both invigorated and crushed. I love that I could through life and enjoy it on my own; however, I hate that I was too scared to experience new things. I fully intend to change my irrational fears about trying new things with the possibility of appearing inexperienced because everyone is an amateur at something. I also intend to continue to embrace my enjoyment of solitude. While I will always strive to have solid relationships with people, I do not necessarily need others in order to be happy.

This is what I love about traveling alone—a person’s true self is revealed, both the admirable and the despicable. When I wander in solitude, no one else is there to distract me from my greatest advocate and worst enemy, myself. My strengths and flaws are clearly exposed, and it is completely up to me to fortify my positive qualities and diminish my negative ones. In all honesty, no one truly travels alone; when one wanders by themselves, they take their darkest secrets, most troubling questions and most invincible assets with them on their journey.