You Can't Travel With Everybody

People think travel is about the destination.

I don’t.

I think it’s about who you become while you’re there.

I’ve been fortunate enough to travel to places I once only dreamed about.

Thailand.

Egypt.

Ghana.

Tanzania.

Paris.

London.

Panama.

Mexico.

Bali.

And so many more.

Each country has left something behind in me.

Not souvenirs.

Not passport stamps.

Perspective.

People always ask me what my favorite country is.

The truth is, I don’t know if I could ever answer that.

Because every place has introduced me to a different version of myself.

Travel has taught me courage.

Patience.

Curiosity.

Compassion.

Adaptability.

It has taught me how little I actually know about the world.

And maybe that’s why I keep going.

Not because I’m running away from my life.

Because every trip brings me closer to it.

One thing I’ve learned, though, is this:

You can’t travel with everybody.

Travel amplifies people.

The qualities that are easy to ignore at home become impossible to ignore when you’re together twenty-four hours a day.

You’ll find out if they’re patient.

If they’re generous.

If they’re curious.

If they’re adaptable.

If they’re grateful.

If they complain about everything.

If they’re respectful to strangers.

If they can handle inconvenience without ruining the entire experience.

Travel doesn’t create someone’s character.

It reveals it.

I’ve had trips that felt like movies.

The kind where you’re laughing until your stomach hurts.

Watching sunsets that don’t even look real.

Having conversations that change your life.

Trying foods you can’t pronounce.

Dancing with strangers.

Missing trains.

Finding hidden cafés.

Looking at each other like...

“Can you believe this is our life right now?”

Those are the moments I chase.

I’ve also had trips where I spent half the vacation counting down the days until I could go home.

Because no hotel is luxurious enough to compensate for bad energy.

That’s why I’m incredibly intentional about who I travel with.

Travel is sacred to me.

It’s one of the few places where I completely reconnect with myself.

When I board a plane, I leave behind more than my city.

I leave behind expectations.

Pressure.

Routine.

Noise.

Travel gives me permission to meet myself again.

Sometimes I discover that I’m braver than I thought.

Sometimes I realize I’ve outgrown a version of myself.

Sometimes I simply remember who I was before life got so loud.

That feeling is priceless.

One of my favorite memories happened in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

I remember jumping into the water to swim near whales.

For a second, I felt impossibly small.

Here I was, floating in an ocean beside one of the largest animals on Earth.

It was humbling.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

Perfect.

There was no filter.

No perfect angle.

No audience.

Just me.

The ocean.

And a moment I’ll carry with me forever.

Travel has also changed the way I eat.

Growing up, I loved Southern food.

It’s still home to me.

But traveling taught me that food is one of the purest forms of culture.

I’ve tasted handmade pasta in Italy.

Fresh fruit in tropical markets.

Vegetarian dishes I never would have discovered if I had stayed inside my comfort zone.

Every meal tells a story.

Every country has something to teach you if you’re willing to taste it.

That’s another thing travel has given me.

Curiosity.

I’ve learned that the world is much kinder than fear would have you believe.

I’ve learned new languages.

New customs.

New dances.

New ways of thinking.

I’ve learned that people who look different from me often want the exact same things.

Peace.

Family.

Opportunity.

Love.

Travel has made me less judgmental and more compassionate.

It reminds me that my way isn’t the only way.

And I think that’s one of the greatest gifts a person can receive.

People often assume travel is about luxury.

That someone else must be paying.

That it happened overnight.

The truth is much less glamorous.

I worked.

I saved.

I planned.

I prioritized experiences over excuses.

Travel has never been about escaping reality.

It’s been about expanding it.

Because every time I leave home, I return carrying something invisible.

A little more confidence.

A little more gratitude.

A little more wisdom.

A little more of myself.

Maybe that’s why I’ll never stop traveling.

I’m not collecting countries.

I’m collecting versions of the woman I’m becoming.

If you could travel anywhere not to escape your life, but to discover a new part of yourself, where would you go, and who do you hope to become when you return?

With intention,

AuJené