I’m not searching for someone to complete me; I’m collecting stamps in my passport and memories that fulfill my soul. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t need to wait for the “right person” to start living the life I dreamed of. The only thing I needed was a ticket in hand, a spirit of adventure, and the courage to go alone.

Each stamp in my passport is more than an entry or exit—it’s a snapshot of a life well-lived. It’s the sound of laughter on a cobblestone street in Prague, the aroma of spices swirling through a Marrakech market, the feel of sand slipping between my fingers on a secluded beach in Thailand. These moments fill me in ways no relationship ever could because they’re mine alone, unfiltered and unshared.

I don’t need someone to validate these experiences. The vastness of the Grand Canyon doesn’t become less awe-inspiring because I stood there alone. The Northern Lights don’t shine any less brightly because there’s no hand to hold. My soul is fulfilled by the memories I make, the people I meet, and the lessons I learn along the way.

Traveling is my way of saying yes to life, of proving to myself that I am whole, capable, and endlessly curious. While others may search for “the one,” I’ve found my own completeness in the rhythm of a moving train, the hum of an unfamiliar city, and the ever-growing list of places still waiting for me to explore.