Breakups wreck you. They unravel routines and reshape your identity, and can make you feel an emptiness like nothing else. Whether the ending was mutual or blindsiding, the aftermath often feels like being dropped into emotional freefall. You grieve. You spiral. You wonder when and how you’ll feel okay again.
For me, that next step didn’t come from a rebound or a self-help book. It came through travel. Here’s how it changed everything.
The Breakup That Broke Me And What Came Next
In early 2023, my relationship ended and not quietly. It was dramatic, sudden, and destabilizing. I felt angry and unsure how to process the ending or where to channel all my feelings.
Around the same time, I met someone who shared my love for photography. She got it. She understood the creative drought I’d felt since repatriating back to the States, especially the frustration of being surrounded by people who didn’t challenge or inspire me creatively. Everyone was a “model,” but no one wanted to push the boundaries of a visual story.
We planned a creative trip to Los Angeles. It was supposed to revive my passion and break me out of my funk. But then… she flaked. That friendship deteriorated before we even got on the plane.
Two heartbreaks, one trip. And yet, I had the flight booked, and the hotel paid for. So I went. Alone.
How Solo Travel Cracked Me Open
I landed in LA with baggage heavier than my carry-on. I didn’t know what I was hoping to find or do, but I knew staying home wasn’t it.
At first, I tried to shut out everything: the grief, the anxiety, the impulse to flee back to Europe. I almost convinced myself I could outrun the reality if I booked the right flight. But healing doesn’t work like that.
I started to feel it all instead. The solitude gave me space to confront the real mess: the loss, the guilt, the ways I’d contributed to that relationship’s downfall. I realized I had been in emotional denial for months and other people kept reminding me of it.
That trip forced me to get comfortable with the discomfort.
The Emotional Unpacking
Travel gave me the distance to zoom out on my life, literally and figuratively. I started exercising. Reflecting. Crying, sometimes. Laughing, other times.
I dug into patterns and why I’d ignored red flags, why I gave too much, why I avoided hard conversations. It wasn’t pretty, but it was necessary.
Travel as a Healing Tool, Not an Escape Route
Let’s be real, travel is often sold a cure-all for all of life’s woes. And while it can be incredibly therapeutic, it’s not a magic reset button.
I didn’t book a one-way ticket to Bali and return spiritually reborn. What I did do was remove myself from an environment in which I felt stuck. That shift in scenery gave me the clarity and courage to stop numbing myself.
I didn’t run from the pain, I ran toward a version of myself that could sit with it.
And I didn’t do it alone. I leaned on friends and family. I even saw a counselor. The conversations I had during that time cracked something open in me. They helped me realize that healing wasn’t about fixing myself but about accepting what I’d survived, and choosing to grow from it.
Final Thoughts
Travel won’t fix a broken heart. But it might crack it open in a way that lets the light in. It might remind you who you are outside of someone else’s love. It might just be the beginning of everything you forgot you were capable of.
If you’re going through a breakup and wondering if travel will help, ask yourself this: Are you escaping, or are you searching for something real?
Because for me? It wasn’t the destination that healed me. It was the decision to go.
