I Went On A Solo Road Trip and Learned These 4 Things About Myself

My mom gives great advice, but as a trained social worker and leader of mental health initiatives across Pennsylvania, that makes sense. 

When I began talking seriously about my goal of one day finding a partner, my mom’s advice proved invaluable. This included a push from her to take a cross country road trip with every single man I’ve ever thought about a future with.

In her view, road trips bring out the best and worst in a person. And boy was she right. 

Except…I’m not partnered. In this stage of life, the person I care most about knowing deeply is myself. 

So, when I moved from Washington, D.C. to Cody, Wyoming a few months ago, I packed my car to the brim and drove a couple thousand miles by myself. Here’s what I learned. 

I’m deeply patriotic. 

If you want to hate America, watch the news. If you want to love it, drive across the country. From the roaring Mississippi River to the endless plains of South Dakota and the towering Rocky Mountains, this nation is wealthy in sights. 

With some of our states larger than countries, it’s remarkable that something intangible keeps our entirely heterogenous society together. To me, that’s worth celebrating. 

Driving across our country, I saw rural and urban poverty, racism on display, reminders of the genocide of indigenous communities, desolate factory farms sucking the earth dry, and fast food joints on every corner. 

I was reminded that we can and must be better. To love America is to demand it to continue growing.

But even more importantly, driving across our country I saw celebrations of diversity, small acts of kindness, and deep appreciation for the land that we curate. That’s my America. 

As I made my way across the states and took in the sights, learned terrible and great history, and met characters from all walks of life, I renewed my love for this place we call home. 

I’m impatient. 

You know how people say patience is a virtue? I am missing that one. 

I like driving fast, I can’t stand people who don’t use turn signals, and if you’re dilly dallying at the gas pump, your days are numbered. 

I guess after eight years living in a city, moving quickly became my norm. 

Now, this isn’t a surprise for anyone who knows me. But when you’re driving across the country on no one's timeline but your own, and you realize that you’re constantly in a rush…that’s a wake up call to slow down. 

After a few months in Wyoming, I’ve dramatically slowed down and am proud to announce I haven’t honked my horn once since moving here. Change is possible, folks! 

Curiosity hasn’t killed the cat yet. 

As women, we’re taught from a young age to fear the world. To make ourselves small to ward off attention, to lower our voices so others don’t get mad, and to avoid going to places alone to crush opportunities for harm. 

Well, when you’re driving across the country alone, none of those things are possible. And they aren’t desirable either. 

Showing up as yourself and doing things alone can be scary! This makes sense when social media and newsfeeds are filled with stories that only inspire fear. 

But, do the damn things and do them alone anyways. 

If I stayed in my car I wouldn’t have seen the Corn Palace, the Dignity of Earth and Sky statue, Devils Tower National Monument, or the World’s Largest Truckstop.

It turns out that kindness is most often met with kindness and the coolest, weirdest people are just waiting for you to show up. 

Sometimes you need a distraction from your own thoughts, and that’s okay. 

After about 10 hours in the car, I’d already dissected every relationship I’ve ever heard, all the times I’d yelled at my mom, and considered who would speak at my dad’s funeral (he’s perfectly fine btw). For me, this was a side effect of working 80-hour weeks for so long that my brain felt compelled to consider every thought possible in times of rest, rather than to remain present. 

Instead of dwelling on made-up scenarios, I decided to take my brain on a journey through podcast land and it was the best decision ever. 

I learned about the Irish Independence Movement, the mobs who ran Chicago, what really happened in Vietnam, and how to have the best sex ever.

Sometimes the best thing you can do for your mental health is refocus your brain on something entirely different—a life lesson I’ve taken well beyond my road trip. 

Life is a highway and I’m going to keep riding it. 

After one solo cross country road trip, I feel more ready for the twists and turns of the daily highway than I ever did before. 

I can hold my country to a higher standard, while loving it for what it is. I can actually enjoy my life instead of rushing through it. I can do hard things and I can do them alone. And I can set my brain up for success. 

So, next time, I’ll see you on the road. Right ladies?!