Flying Solo, Without a Title
Traveling alone sounds simple, until you realize how much of you still lives inside titles.
For the first time, I travelled without introducing myself through a title.
Not a wife.
Not a daughter.
Not a sister.
Not even the roles that quietly shape how others see me.
Just me.
Or at least, that was the idea.
Somewhere during the trip, I realised something about myself. The only title I carry comfortably into conversations with strangers is being a mother.
When I speak as a mother, there is no filter. No hesitation. No need to edit myself. It feels instinctive, almost grounding. Before anything else, I feel like a mother. Even before being called a wife.
Does that make sense?
South Goa is beautiful. Quiet. Culture-rich. In many ways it reminds me of Kokan- the food, the rhythm of life, the simplicity.
I feel like I should belong here.
But I don’t fully feel it.
Yes, I recognize the similarities- the food, the lifestyle, the cultural threads. But the connection stays somewhere on the surface.
Maybe that made me realize something uncomfortable about myself.
Maybe I am still a little afraid to explore.
Because even when you travel alone, you don’t really leave your titles behind. They travel with you quietly, invisibly. Years of living inside roles don’t disappear just because you book a solo ticket.
And then you begin to notice the invisible design of the world.
Rooms assume two.
Experiences imagine couples.
Even leisure quietly expects pairs.
Being alone is not unusual.
Yet very little seems built for someone who simply wants to exist somewhere alone.
Which makes me wonder, is solo travel only about courage? Or does society also need to create a safer, more accepting space for people to simply be on their own, without questions, assumptions, or judgement?
Maybe this trip was not really about discovering South Goa.
Maybe it was about noticing how much of me still lives inside titles.
Maybe this is where learning to fly solo begins.