Last spring I took myself on a solo weekend trip to Washington, DC. It was sort of on a whim... Zach, the boys, and I had been in DC in 2019 and touring the museums with them was great, but the boys have less stamina for that than I do (even when cool dinosaur bones are involved), and I wanted to go back. I realized I had never taken a trip completely by myself, for myself-- not to visit family or friends, or for an event/conference, but just because I wanted to go someplace and where I got to decide my own itinerary.
The trip was everything I hoped it would be. My airbnb was adorable, in the cutest of neighborhoods, with great options for walking and getting around easily. I ate great food. The weather was perfect. I got to decide exactly what I wanted to, when I wanted to do it. I spent a whole day at the Museum of Natural History (the first solid half of it just geeking out over the Hall of Fossils, not having to worry that anyone else was bored or wanting to do something else). I visited the museum of Native American history, and several of the art museums. I spent time thinking and journaling and processing some things I hadn't given myself space for before then. I felt inspired in ways I hadn't in years. It honestly felt healing and soul-nourishing.
A few weeks after I got back, my sister reached out asking if I wanted to house-and cat-sit in Maui while she and her girlfriend were out of town (she was having trouble finding anyone who had the time and availability, and was asking increasingly wider circles of people). I felt guilty even considering it... I'd just taken a fun solo trip, could I really go away again, for five days just a month later? It felt selfish,. But thankfully Zach and a few others gave me a swift but gentle kick in the pants and permission to accept the offer, since I would be helping her out after all. I was even able to use miles to buy my plane tickets. It's like it was meant to be.
So I went, and I spent several glorious days enjoying more great food (including the best breakfast sandwich I've ever had), beautiful weather and locations, and hanging out with sweet cuddly kitties. It was a really, really great trip.
I know it's a huge privilege to get to go on these vacations. I think part of what felt significant and healing about these trips was simply the fact that I said yes to them and (mostly) managed to quiet the voice that told me to feel guilty about them. As a caregiver it's often been hard to prioritize myself, and especially for things that can feel like frivolous "wants."
Life is strange, and sometimes you get weird twists. About a month after getting back from Maui, as I sat in a room with two doctors explaining my breast cancer and discussing options for chemo and surgery, realizing the ways my life was going to be completely turned upside down for the next months or years, I felt very, very glad that I took advantage of those opportunities for fun and leisure when they came my way.
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