So, a while back, I hopped on here to chat about how I was gearing up for my first solo trip at the ripe old age of 30. Yeah, I know, I’m fashionably late to the whole “find myself” party. But the responses I got from you folks were so darn sweet and supportive that I found the courage to go for it. Fast forward to now, and guess where I am? Tokyo, baby! After a grueling 48-hour journey with zero shut-eye, I finally made it. But let me tell you, my first night has been a total disaster. Airbnb snafus, locked out dramas, lugging my bags through unfamiliar streets – you name it, I’ve been through it. It’s well past 1 am, and here I am, sitting alone in my bed, tears welling up, missing my significant other, and questioning my life choices. Is it normal to feel like this on a solo escapade, especially when you’re head over heels for someone waiting back home? You might be wondering why I embarked on this lone adventure when we’ve had such epic travels together before, and we’ll definitely hit the road as a duo again. But I needed this solo gig. I craved a longer journey on my lonesome, far away from the familiar, to clear my head and carve out some me-time before the fast lane of life swallows me whole. If any of you out there have been in my shoes, how did you push past this gnawing doubt? Right now, I’m thinking maybe this whole solo thing isn’t my jam after all.