I recently returned from a whirlwind trip to San Francisco, CA. The trip was all about love, but not in the two-people-fall-in-love kind of way; it was about one woman (me) and one city (San Francisco). I have been to the City by the Bay before as a tourist on my first ever solo trip, as a cheerleader when my mom ran the Nike Women’s Marathon, and as a tour guide when I led my now ex-boyfriend around. Each time someone was with me or waiting for me on the other end when I got off the plane from Wisconsin. But not this time. This time I explored the city completely on my own terms and in my own way. Along the trip I fell even more deeply in love with the city itself, and learned to trust and catch myself along the way.
Overcoming my fear of missing out
First of all, when I travel I am always on the move. I don’t sit still, unless it’s to drink a cup of coffee in the morning or share a drink with a friend in the evening. Traveling on my own I could flit over to the beach as early as sunrise, then wander to a cafe for refreshments, then catch a train into the Mission district to thrift a new set of clothes (I only brought the one dress to wear). I had friends in town, and it was lovely to share some adventures with them, but I was so pleased to find that not only was I content to head off on my own, but I was actually happy to do so.
I’ve always been afraid of “missing” something, some fun event, or to be on the outside looking in. I used to go along with everyone and try to be a part of every memorable event. I would be tired, or bored, or desperately uncomfortable; I’m an introvert for crying out loud!
Not on this trip. I realized that maybe for the first time I didn’t care what I might be “missing”. I was more excited to navigate the streets in a new part of the city or rifle through the shelves in a fascinating shop – particularly book stores! On a side note: my favorite book shop is Green Apple Books, so check it out if you’re ever in town.
The things you do when you’re alone
The stress of being somewhere, at some appointed time, because of someone else’s plans, is lifted when you travel alone. I could ride the Muni anywhere in the City solely because I wanted to. Yes, I got on the wrong train or bus a couple of times, and yes I was a little confused about how to find the right one again, but it was all a part of the adventure. The spirit of adventure is all about exploration, right?
Falling into the rhythm of a city that isn’t your own is a rewarding feeling. Relying on public transportation is a great way to get a feel for how the city operates; the Muni system is pretty much the pulse of San Francisco since that’s how almost everyone gets around. I loved riding around and watching the neighborhoods flash past. Initially I feared taking public transportation on my own since I am particularly skilled at getting lost. My fears went unfounded since I got myself to and from wherever I needed to be (okay, one night I did have help from friends learning how to call an Uber driver when I was waaaayyy too tired and cold to be cognizant).
Spending time in cafes and bars is another way to slow down and enjoy the place you find yourself. Since visiting my favorite book stores was a priority, I had several books in my backpack at all times. This gave me a chance to sit alone and sip my drink without feeling self-conscious. I visited Spike’s in the Castro and sat for a long time with a tall mug of cappuccino and a Michael Chabon novella. San Francisco is a city full of individuals, so one woman alone with her book in a cafe fits right in.
I am enough for me
My best and favorite discovery was that I was completely enough for me. I allowed myself complete freedom and dropped my expectations of what I “should” be doing, and it was great. I made new friends and reconnected with old ones. I’ve been lucky enough to travel fairly frequently over the years and pick up a lot of tips and tricks from others on the road. I thought long and hard about this trip to San Francisco because I knew it could either be great or really stressful. It all paid off because now I’ve got the photos and dreamy memories of a phenomenal trip. This trip became an act of self-love and an expression of my confidence in myself. I trusted the person that I am and was not disappointed. This is how I found love in San Francisco.
This is a guest post by Eryka Blank.
Eryka is a 26 year old wanderer from the Midwest who grew up traveling with her family and now continues her journeys (mostly) on her own as an adult. She fantasizes about scuba diving in the Indian Ocean and hiking through New Zealand. Currently she is in the process of relocating across the country to Lakewood, Colorado with her two cats and two rabbits. She writes her travel blog at and shares photos from her journeys on Instagram as .
