My parents have a vague idea of what country I’m in, most of the time.

The story that I tell people is that I was studying for a while and then I got tired and needed a break, so I ran away from home.

I’m traveling solo around Europe, taking buses and trains from hostel to hostel, staying with strangers, living out of a single backpack, learning how to order coffee in languages I don’t understand.

Right now, I’m in Poland. About a week ago, I wasn’t. About a week ago, I had no idea that I would be going to Poland. About a week from now, I probably won’t be in Poland. But I’m not entirely sure.

I don’t have a plan. I can wake up in the morning and decide where I want to go, what I want to do, how I want to get there. I don’t have to answer to anyone.* And for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling something very close to free.

*Except for my little sister, who wants me back home by Thanksgiving.

I like being able to make mistakes with nobody watching. Which makes it hard when a stranger yells at me in German for biking on the wrong side of the street, or in Polish for walking in the wrong grass in courtyard of a castle, or in Czech for looking at my phone and not watching where I’m going and almost bumping into them. But it’s just a lesson, even if it stings just a little, and I learn.

Traveling is an education in how to operate in this world. How to wash your dishes after cooking, and clean up the kitchen for the next person. What to do if you get on the wrong train. How to ask for help from strangers. How to cope when you get lost in a strange place when your phone is dead and the street signs are written in somebody else’s language and you are completely by yourself. How to worry a little for other people, when you’re sleeping in a room with eight or ten bunks and it’s 8AM and you’re the first one up and the floor creaks like something else, but your mouth feels like something died in there are you desperately want a toothbrush and a toilet and a sink.

Self care becomes a necessity, not an option. For me.

Like, look. You’ve got to sleep, because you’re going to need the energy for tomorrow. You need to eat good food, or your belly will be uncomfortable. You need that fuel so you can walk, so you can think. Same goes for water.

This is why, every time I land somewhere new, I immediately hit up a grocery store. I didn’t plan on this. It was a rhythm I fell into without thinking. It’s like a game, learning to navigate a new currency and a new language, where the end goal is a bar of chocolate and some onions/peppers/mushrooms/something that is hopefully butter, it looks like it’s probably butter, we’re going with that.

The basics. Where are you going to sleep for the next three nights? How are you getting there? Where does the bus leave from? Where is the free WiFi so that you can find out/make sure of all those things?

I’ve memorized my credit card number, my social, my passport ID.

You learn how to trust people, and how to be careful. Triple checking that you’ve got your passport and your debit card and your keys and charger and phone, on you person or somewhere safe. But at some point, you leave your backpack somewhere unattended in a dorm for a couple of minutes and you just sort of pray that no one will steal anything on the inside of it, and you know they won’t because it’s just clothes and deodorant and shampoo and a toothbrush and the tulips you bought for your mother in Holland anyway, and they all brought their own and are all secretly hoping the same thing about their own stuff.

When you are carrying everything you need with you in a backpack, you very quickly learn exactly what you actually need. And over time, the things you don’t need phase out to make room for the things you do need, but didn’t realize you were going to, when you start to wish you had them.

I don’t need more than like two pairs of pants, but a pair of flip flops for questionable bathroom floors at some of the hostels would be lovely.

It isn’t all about the sightseeing, or where I go, or even the history and culture that surrounds me, even though those things are educational and awe inspiring in their own rite. For me, I think I am traveling alone because of what this lifestyle does for me on a personal level. There’s something new and challenging and frustrating and scary and sad and beautiful around every corner. It’s pushing me outside my comfort zone, requiring me to grow, and I am constantly seeking out the things that do that for me.

And because I want to feel free.