I stood on the cliffs at Sandanbeki and felt myself exhale. Everybody else came, took a photo, and moved on. I understand that rhythm because I can move through a place that way too. But for me, something shifted in my body. I could feel that sense that I shouldn’t linger too long because there was more to see, other places to go. And at the same time there was another pull, one asking me to pause. So I stood still. I breathed in the salt air. I noticed my shoulders drop and felt my mind soften in a way it hadn’t a few minutes earlier. I stayed in that moment longer than I usually would.

Later I realized why that moment stood out. I don’t always let myself stay long enough for a moment to unfold. Even on a solo trip, something in me keeps asking whether I’m using the experience well enough. That’s the hidden pressure I’m starting to notice: the pressure to make every solo trip worth it.

When women talk about traveling alone, the conversation often turns to whether it’s a good idea. Usually that question is about safety. But what I notice when I’m traveling by myself is something different. Without anyone else shaping the day, the only pace I’m following is my own. And that makes certain patterns much easier to see.

I notice how quickly I start managing the experience. My mind begins organizing the day: where should I go next, is there something nearby I should see while I’m already out? The moment becomes something I’m trying to optimize.

That tendency doesn’t come from travel. It comes from how many of us have learned to move through life. Competence and making good use of opportunities are qualities many women have practiced for decades before ever taking a solo trip.

Is 40 Too Old to Start Traveling Solo?

This is also the reason for another question that comes up often: is forty too old to start traveling. From what I’ve experience, traveling later in life is an excellent choice. By that point, we know ourselves better. But we’re also carrying years of habits around responsibility and productivity. Those habits don’t disappear when we arrive somewhere beautiful. Sometimes they simply follow us into the experience.

You can be standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean and still feel the quiet question underneath it all: am I making good use of this moment?

The Pressure to Make the Moment Meaningful

The same pattern showed up for me while sitting the onsen.

I lived in Japan for four years and never went to a public onsen. This time I finally did, and I expected the experience to feel extraordinary. Instead, something funny happened. I kept checking my watch. I had read that people usually stay in the water for ten to twenty minutes, and I found myself trying to do it correctly.

I looked at my watch and thought surely it had been fifteen minutes. It had been three. I had to laugh at myself. Even while soaking in hot water, I was still trying to make the experience meaningful.

A few days later, I went to another onsen and saw a small sign explaining that you leave the water when you feel sweat on your brow. Suddenly the measure wasn’t time anymore. I could simply notice my body. The experience changed immediately because I wasn’t trying to optimize it anymore.

Choosing Pace Instead of Accomplishment

I see this same dynamic showing up in another decision I’m holding right now. I have two hotels booked for the same nights, one in Kobe and one on Awaji Island. Kobe feels like a place where I could explore efficiently and see many things. Awaji feels quieter, with fewer plans and more empty space in the day.

Neither option is right or wrong. What interests me is how different they feel in my body. When I imagine Kobe, my mind starts organizing the experience. When I imagine Awaji, everything slows down. That difference brings me back to Sandanbeki, to that moment where I didn’t move. I wasn’t trying to prove anything or capture the best photo. I simply noticed that I didn’t want to leave yet.

The more I travel, the more I’m realizing that the question isn’t always where to go next. Sometimes the more interesting question is what pace allows a moment to fully unfold.

This week’s invitation

It’s funny how accomplishment can slip into travel, even when the whole reason for traveling is to experience something different. It often shows up in the question of what else we should be doing or what else we should be seeing. That pull toward the next thing can arrive before the present moment has really finished unfolding.

So here’s something you might notice this week.

The next time you find see or experience something beautiful, pay attention to the moment when you feel the impulse to move on. You might still leave. But you might also stay a little longer than you normally would, just to see what happens when you give the moment a little more space.

Join the community

And if you want a place to explore these questions more slowly, with other women who are thinking about solo travel in this season of life, you’re welcome in the Skool community. It’s a space to talk honestly about what comes up, without pressure to be brave or get it right.