Traveling alone for the first time was an experience that as left me with some good times and well as some open wounds…
I have gone to events alone, but there were always people waiting for me at my destinations. This trip to Vegas was different. I was alone. No one was waiting for me in Vegas.
As many of you know, I loathe flying. My body responds to flying with primal get-the-fuck-out-of-here fear. Because of this, I have to take a considerable amount of medication (think drool-like state) in order to convince my body that we are, in fact, safe (even though flying 35,000 feet above the earth could never be safe - don’t try and convince me). Due to my medicated state, I become much slower at normal activities, like walking and talking to other humans. When I am with other people, it is not that big of a deal, because they will help me with my bags or answer questions more quickly than my processing speed (see again, drool-like state). While trying to go to Vegas, I went to the gate for LA. I was informed of this when I handed the fly-the-friendly-skies counter lady my boarding pass, her scanner started beeping loudly. I thought, “OH SHIT - they found out I am a bleeding heart liberal!” She smiled nicely at me and said, “Ma’am, this is the gate for LA.” I responded with a look of confusion, and what was likely a far too long of pause and said sadly, and most likely with tears forming, “But I don’t wanna go to LA, I wanna go to Vegas.” With a mothering like voice, she pointed me towards the correct gate. Thank you, counter lady for being nice to me.
Once I arrived in the City of Sin, I was greeted by very warm air, and it felt wonderful on my chilly Portland skin. I hopped in a cab and arrived at my hotel, thinking to myself, “I really cannot believe I am here by myself”! I was generally alright with it. It seemed, however, that others did not feel the same way about my aloneness. There were the frequent and awkward “oh, you’re here alone?” comments/questions, made with confused sideways faces. “Yes, I am here alone, and it is actually kind of fabulous”. In a way it was. I didn’t have to plan around anyone else’s wants or desires. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. However, there was this nagging “you’re doing it wrong” voice that played on repeat in my head. The highlighted example is when I went to see the show, Jubilee. I was sat at table alone, tickets that I spend a lot of money for. As more and more guests arrived, a woman with a camera visited all the tables taking pictures of all the happy couples on dates, and all the groups of ladies out on the town. Well, she visited all the tables, but mine. I overheard her say “Let me take your picture. You can see it after the show, you don’t have to buy it, but it can be a happy piece of memorabilia”. The unspoken words here were that since I was alone, there was no need for me to have my picture. After all, why would I want to remember being alone? Clearly, I was doing the nightlife scene wrong.
Overall, I am glad that I went to Vegas alone. I left with a stronger sense of self, be it just a small piece. I feel more aware of the fact that when people are “alone” it is not simply because no one likes them, it may be because they are actually CHOOSING to be alone - a concept that I am just now beginning to understand - and that is the open wound that needs tending. When I was alone, I slept better than I had in about a year, I had energy to face my days, my shoulders didn’t feel the heaviness they feel while in town - I suppose that is what vacation is supposed to do. Now, if only I could convince those other issues to take a vacation… In the meantime, I think I’ll just book another trip.
