“Travel isn’t about escaping; it’s about discovering who you are when you’re far from comfort and surrounded by the unknown.”

For years, I thought travel was about leaving behind the chaos of everyday life. Work stress, relationships, the pressure to have it all figured out—travel seemed like the perfect antidote. But as I started exploring the world, I realized something profound: I wasn’t running away from anything. I was running toward myself, uncovering pieces of who I truly was in places far from home.

The first time this hit me was during a trip to Vietnam. I had signed up for a motorcycle tour through the mountains of Ha Giang, an adventure far outside my comfort zone. I’d never ridden on the back of a motorbike before, let alone through narrow, winding mountain roads where one wrong turn could send you tumbling into the abyss. At first, I was terrified. My grip on the handlebars was so tight my knuckles turned white.

But as the hours passed and the landscapes unfolded—terraced rice fields glowing golden in the sunlight, tiny villages nestled in valleys, and children waving as we sped by—I felt a shift inside me. The fear faded, replaced by awe and an overwhelming sense of freedom. I wasn’t just seeing a new part of the world; I was discovering a part of myself I didn’t know existed—the part that could embrace fear and turn it into exhilaration.

Then there was the time I found myself completely lost in the labyrinthine streets of Fes, Morocco. The medina is a maze of twisting alleys, each one looking eerily similar to the last. I had no map, no Wi-Fi, and no idea where I was going. At first, panic set in. But then, I took a deep breath and decided to embrace the chaos.

As I wandered, I stumbled upon things I never would have found on a guided tour: a tiny shop selling handwoven rugs, a hidden courtyard where locals gathered to drink mint tea, and a spice vendor who taught me how to make tagine while we shared stories in broken French. By the time I found my way out, I realized that being lost wasn’t something to fear—it was an opportunity to connect with the world around me and with myself.

Travel has a way of stripping away all the noise, leaving you with nothing but the present moment. It’s in those moments—when you’re far from comfort and surrounded by the unknown—that you learn who you really are.

I’ve learned that I’m braver than I thought, like the time I hiked solo in the Andes and found myself caught in a sudden rainstorm, soaked to the bone but laughing at the absurdity of it all. I’ve learned that I’m resourceful, like when I figured out how to navigate Tokyo’s subway system despite not knowing a single word of Japanese. And I’ve learned that I’m more open-hearted than I ever imagined, like when I stayed with a family in a small village in Kenya and left with lifelong friends who felt like family.

Travel also taught me to appreciate my own company. Sitting alone at a café in Paris or watching the sunset over the Serengeti, I discovered that solitude doesn’t have to feel lonely. It can feel empowering, even beautiful.

The unknown, I’ve realized, isn’t something to avoid—it’s where life happens. It’s where growth happens. It’s where you find parts of yourself that might never surface in the safety of routine.

So no, travel isn’t about escaping. It’s not about running from problems or pretending life back home doesn’t exist. It’s about stepping into the unfamiliar, facing your fears, and letting the world show you who you really are.

Every trip, every adventure, every moment in a strange new place is a chance to peel back another layer, to become a little more of the person I’m meant to be. And for that, I’ll keep exploring—comfort be damned.