I'd traveled to understand places before. This was the first time I traveled to understand a person. Somewhere between meeting his family, walking the streets that raised him, and seeing the world through his memories instead of my own, I realized that sometimes the best way to know someone is to know the place that knew them first.

The older I get, the less interested I become in making every trip about who I'm becoming. Travel still changes me, but that's no longer the point. I travel because the world is endlessly interesting, not because I'm constantly trying to become someone more interesting within it.

People love romanticizing solo travel for women—the freedom, the confidence, the independence of exploring the world alone. What they rarely talk about are the instincts, awareness, and split-second decisions that become part of every journey.

Travel gradually changed my relationship with beauty. Somewhere between humidity, long transit days, new cities, and living out of one bag, I became less interested in looking perfect and more comfortable simply showing up as I was.

I started traveling as social media transformed the way we discovered the world. At first, it felt inspiring. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was arriving in places that already felt pre-experienced.

Some of my favorite travel memories begin before I ever leave the hotel room — music playing softly, makeup scattered across a bathroom counter, and the ritual of getting ready while the city waits outside.