Table for One: Getting Your Own Flowers
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This weekend, I found myself watching Tracee Ellis Ross share her reflections on solo travel, and something about her words stopped me in my tracks. The way she spoke about being fully present in her own company — comfortable in her own skin, unbothered by expectations reminded me of something I’ve been learning and relearning for years: the art of belonging to yourself. She also reflected on being successful, single in her 50s with no children. I recall her saying she does not do what she does (i.e., solo traveling) to be a poster child for singledom, but that she’s just living life on her terms. What a liberating truth.
Seeing how Tracee learned to be fully present in her own company, at peace in her own skin felt so familiar, like hearing a truth I have lived but had not named out loud. It brought me back to my own solo travel experiences. I am pretty fearless and if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. Watching the show and seeing how Tracee organized, packed, prepared for all kinds of situations: weather changes, illness, changing her mind on her outfits, and bringing things that would make her comfortable. I felt so seen, I said to myself: I definitely can relate! I remembered my first solo trip to the Dominican Republic. I was a little nervous, I was even discouraged by some due to safety concerns, being easily identifiable as a foreigner, and not being fluent in Spanish. I went anyways. The courage it took to eat dinner by myself, to explore a city without anyone narrating the experience beside me. And how, somewhere between fear and freedom, I realized that solitude is not emptiness; it is space for self-discovery.
Just this week, I was scrolling through old photos from my old phone. The images weren’t curated — they were grainy, sometimes blurry — but they held truth. There I was, smiling under the sun, sitting quietly in a café, journaling, wandering. At that time, I didn’t even realize how sacred those moments were. I was building a relationship with myself. I was saying yes to life, even when no one else could come along.
Solo travel — and really, solo living — has taught me that sometimes we just have to get our own flowers.
Airport drop-offs and pickups without a hug or a kiss, dragging your own suitcase, settling into your airplane seat, and texting loved ones from the plane before going on airplane mode are all apart of the solo travel experience.
“Hello, table for one.”
”Yep, just me.”
”Une table pour une, s’il vous plaît.”
”Para una, gracias.”
”Sí, estoy sola.”
All things I have said and in each language felt like an affirmation- a declaration of independence. I was learning how to be alone, but not lonely and use my voice. Note to self: no one is coming to save you on a solo vacation. Use your voice. I sat in one of my favorite cafés in Châtelet and I saw my reflection looking back at me in a mirror. Nothing hits you like being alone when you are brought to your table and the server removes the second plates, utensils, water and wine glass. It’s just you, right? I thought to myself, if I can be alone in France, the most romantic place of all, and be unbothered, I have mastered solo traveling.
If you have read some of my previous travel blogs, I have encountered the “questions.” Are you sure you’re alone? Is your husband coming down to join you for breakfast? Why did you come alone? Andas sola? Why is a beautiful woman like you here alone? Are you sure you aren’t meeting up with someone? And the questions when I get home: So???? Did you meet anyone “interesting?” No one?
I get it. No one wants me to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. But the truth is: We cannot wait for someone to validate our worth, recognize our effort, or give us permission to live or do the things we enjoy.
Too often, we delay joy because we’ve been conditioned to believe it must be shared to be real. We tell ourselves, I’ll go when someone goes with me. I’ll go when I’m partnered or married. I’ll celebrate when someone notices. I’ll rest when I’ve earned it. Stop waiting for the condition of “when.” There is something transformative about traveling by yourself, especially as a woman who was taught to always show up for others first. The first few times felt awkward — like the world was watching, wondering where my companion was. But eventually, I realized the only gaze that mattered was my own. The quiet became comforting. The silence became sacred.
But what if joy doesn’t need to be earned?
What if it simply needs to be received — by you, for you, now?
We have been taught to equate solitude with sadness and independence with defiance. Especially as women we are often told that our worth is measured by our service — what we do for others, who we belong to, how well we care, provide, and perform. Rest, pleasure, and play are seen as indulgent — not essential. But they are essential. We were taught to be strong, capable, and hardworking — but not necessarily gentle with ourselves. Learning how to sit at a table for one, comfortably, is its own kind of rebellion. It is saying, I am enough company. I am enough joy. I am enough presence.
Undoing toxic means reclaiming joy without justification.
It means saying, I can buy my own flowers and still receive love from others.
It means realizing that being alone doesn’t mean being lonely; it can mean being aligned.
Every solo trip, every quiet moment, every uncomfortable first have all been my teachers. They have shown me where I was hiding from myself, where I was waiting for permission, and where I needed to grow. I learned that the peace I was searching for in others had to be built within me first.
So much of adulthood is about learning to hold yourself through uncertainty, through disappointment, through transformation. To know when you need community and when you need quiet. To find beauty in your own reflection and comfort in your own company.
So this week, if you’re waiting for the right time, the right person, or the right opportunity to do something you have been longing to do — stop waiting. Take yourself where you want to go. Buy the ticket. Go for the walk. Sit by the water. Take the picture, or ask a trusted stranger.
Because sometimes, the flowers we have been hoping to receive are the ones we were always meant to give ourselves.
Thank you for reading.
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