Solo traveling was a fever dream. I'm back to being my insufferable, headstrong, and cat-motivated Midwest server self. 

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Sure, I've collected stories that improve my general popularity and self-esteem, and eaten some of the best food in the world. I was blessed with Greek generosity and Dutch lesbian bartenders. Avant-garde museums and freezing train stations. I visited architecture I wrote about in college essays, read Mrs. Dalloway from the highest tower in London, and straddled the border of Germany and France, marveling at my privilege. 

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In Athens, I was awed by Exarcheia and the sheer number of artists committed to dismantling the oligarchy. Every German I met was vegetarian or vegan, and my new friends from Spain could not fathom the number of U.S. mass shootings each year.

 

But this trip left a bad taste in my mouth. I can't sustain the connections I made, and I won't regain the $7500 anytime soon. I tote myself as a positive person, but solo travel did a number on my mental health. I felt completely, utterly American. I didn't want to learn local languages or watch local news. I was in Athens when a train crash killed 50+ students, and I felt numb.

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I keep thinking about Tom's line in Succession: "What you need to know from a U.S. news perspective is that we really don't give a fuck. We don't know because we don't really want to know."

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Thinking about the trip hurts because it reminds me about how disconnected (and medically dissociated) I felt at the time. I can't tell if I cared so much that I got overwhelmed and avoided the hurt, or if I really don't give a fuck. And I feel like a child.

 

I don't know when we stop being children.

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Europe has a long, shitty history, and it was worth visiting. The Anne Frank House was the most meaningful experience of my life. I loved facing the Naxos wind with a Turkish coffee in one hand and a raki & sanguine screwdriver in the other. But I thought this trip would help with my apathy, and it didn't. I discovered how much work needs to be done at local & systemic levels, and I checked out. Truth is, I'm a writer who hates to be alone. I prefer fiction to blog posts; my characters are my company, and I depend on a village of people who love me unconditionally and inspire me to grow.​

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I'm writing this to suggest, if you're motivated, to go vegan or volunteer or run for local office or pick up trash or watch the news or read a book or write a blog post or try a new medication. Protest, meal prep, take a nap. These all sound generic and whitewashed, but what else can I say to make this trip worth it? Cliche as it sounds, I want my writing to make the world a better place. Maybe I've changed after all.  Love, S