I’ve been combing the internet searching for weekend getaway ideas. I have this burning need to travel alone.  Girlfriend needs a road trip! I want to pack the car with snacks, old CDs, a beat up sweater and then hit the open road. And I want to do it alone.

There’s something really cool about dialing into yourself in an unfamiliar place and being one with your surroundings. I would like to visit someplace that feels new. A place with no emotional triggers. A change of scenery that will carry no noteworthy memories from my past.

I love the idea of checking in to a nice hotel or B&B and then just exploring…just me, my camera, my journal and my wallet. That’s all I need. I want to be on my own schedule. To do what I want, when I want, as I want. To shower or not to shower. To run…oh, to run! These things feel wonderful to me right now. And I simply must listen to that.

I can’t be irresponsible and rack up a couple grand in vacation debt. I don’t want to create more stress for myself. But I can afford to take myself out of town for a few days. The wonderful thing about living on the East coast, even in the winter, is that there are lots of cool places within driving distance (assuming snow/sleet/freezing rain doesn’t get in the way).

The internet offered up some lovely New England towns, and even a few beach spots to consider. But I think I’ll save those for the Spring and Summer. I’m toying between DC and New Hope, PA. I also thought about New York. But I’ve been there a lot recently. I’d like something a bit less familiar.  The DC area seems most appealing right now. It offers a lot of options, and it’s only a 2 hour drive away.  Sure, I’ve been to DC a few times. But I have no “heart string” moments there. Nothing that will remind me of something I’m trying to forget. So, perhaps I’ll head to DC, get a nice room, take the Metro, see some of the museums, take myself for a run in the National Mall, get some amazing grub, and snap loads of photos.  Just the idea of this makes my heart smile.

It’s funny how when I tell some people that I want to travel alone it can solicit some form of pity. As if it’s sad somehow that I’m planning a solo trip. Look, there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. I like myself. I like hanging with myself. I think I’m kind of fun…and funny…downright hilarious at times. Ahem.  I think it’s necessary to be OK with being alone. This in no way suggests that I am set on being destitute, determined to live solo and never again know what it’s like to share a home with someone. Rather, this means that I am taking care of myself; that I’m spending time with me, to get to know me again. I’ve lost myself over the course of the past 8 years or so. And I really think this desire I have to take mini solo trips is really about self-discovery. I want to know me again. I want to experience things through my own unique lens. I want to be comfortable sitting alone. I want to enjoy the world around me without feeling paralyzed by the absence of someone else. And the only way I can truly do that is to force myself to explore life on my own from time to time. Say it with me, Road trip!!

And, I have to let go of the guilt I may feel in doing this. My daughter is with her father every other weekend, and this affords me the opportunity to experience life a bit more selfishly. I have carried a ton of guilt about this in the past…well, I still do, actually. But I have to let go of that. Really let go of it and embrace the time I have to rebuild my independence.

So…I’m making a promise to myself that I will get out more. That I will go places and allow myself to explore more things alone. That I won’t feel guilty or afraid to test my boundaries. This all sounds quite dramatic. But I guess what you may not know is that I’ve felt trapped a lot these past few years. Trapped by fear and sadness. It comes and it goes. It’s not constant. But I’ve allowed myself to get in a rut. Part of feeling in a rut has to do with the harsh, sometimes crippling elements offered up by winter. But it also has to do with what I’ve been through these past 2 years. I’ve been holding on to hurt, and in doing so I’ve shackled myself.  I’ve been holding myself back. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for “someday,” for some external “thing” or “event” to happen before I actually embrace life fully. And man…life is just way too short for that kind of thinking.

I feel adventurous for the first time in a long, long time. And I’m excited about life. Not life in the future. But life right now. I can feel that flame starting to burn again. I can feel that sense of adventure that used to fuel me years ago. I remember happiness now. And I know that it’s all up to me. And that feels freeing.

I feel a little giddy about taking a mini road trip, and spending some quality time with little ‘ol me. I think I’ll begin the preparation by burning some CDs  (my 2005 Jeep doesn’t have an auxiliary jack. So, I’ll be going old school and burning a road trip mix. Remember those?). Counting Crows, Tom Petty, Van Morrison…some of my favorite men will be joining me on this little adventure. OK…maybe I won’t be so alone after all.