The Road Less Travelled: The Transformative Power Of Solo Exploration
What happened when a mother of twins ventured on a solo journey to Zanzibar with no apologies? Yasmeen Seif shares her experience with Bazaar
For the better part of my life, I have always done what was expected of me. But as an adult with so many hats to wear – wife, mum, employee, boss, friend – juggling the different roles in my life left me burnt out. The truth was, during this risky balancing act, I had lost myself in the process. So, I did what any self-respecting millennial would do – I took a page out of the novel Eat, Pray, Love and booked myself a solo vacation in the hope of finding clarity and direction.
Zanzibar seemed all the rage, and what better way to discover myself than on an island with pristine beaches? The holiday was tentatively booked and sitting in my Emirates app for a few weeks before I did anything about it. Maybe my inner child needed the comfort and approval of a parent with this decision, so when my father told me to “just book it,” I handed him the phone to click the purchase button.
But once the euphoria faded, doubt crept in. I flip-flopped on all the responsibilities I would be leaving behind. Was I selfish to book the trip? What would my kids do? What would people think of me? Would I be judged for going alone? And why did the judgement of others matter to me?
I had often travelled alone for work, but this was going to be my first solo vacation with no agenda and no travel partner as a buffer. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. That meant ditching the planning. I didn’t want to fill my schedule so much that I was too busy and distracted from figuring out the reasons why I felt so burnt out in the first place.
I landed in Zanzibar in the early morning and was met by Yusuf, my driver and my vacation buddy. The first thing I did when I reached my hotel was put on a bathing suit, find a picture-perfect hammock on the beach and get on a Zoom call with my life coach. I was excited to tell her that I had made it to Zanzibar, but instead found myself talking about my fear of being there alone, picturing all the things that could go wrong. She told me to breathe and said, “The universe has your back.” Any time I was scared (which was daily) I repeated that phrase to myself and, unintentionally, it became my mantra.
On day one, I found myself listening to a lo-fi Spotify playlist and taking a nap on the beach in the afternoon under a light rain. A nap! In the middle of the day! Who was I?! That evening, I went on a sunset cruise. I felt vulnerable heading on what promised to be a romantic boat ride. I was the only person alone, but I remembered my mantra, climbed aboard, and smiled at a couple sitting next to me. Eventually I relaxed enough to start chatting with them. The first gorgeous sunset of my trip arrived, and I happily took on the role of photographer for my new friends. After snapping a few photos, the man suddenly dropped on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend. And there I was, the accidental but-official engagement photographer. The love and joy in that moment still gives me goosebumps. Just like that, on day one of my trip, the universe had given me a sign: I am surrounded by love.
That night I went to dinner with just my journal for company (I was on a phone detox). I put pen to paper and allowed the free flow of my consciousness. With no agenda or judgement, I wrote out my feelings, my fears, my uncertainty and, most importantly, my gratitude. It felt powerful.
Day two saw me doing beach yoga at sunrise. Yusuf then picked me up and we headed to town. I learnt quickly that I had to trust strangers. But with all the kindness I was shown, I realised I wasn’t really ever alone. There were people all around me, if only I let them in. A day full of exploring on foot, boat, and a PCR test later, I treated Yusuf to lunch at his favourite Swahili restaurant. Over pilaf, plantains, and delicious grilled king fish, we swapped stories of our kids and showed each other pictures of them on our phones. Yusuf’s friendship was a powerful reminder that you can make trustworthy connections in the most unexpected places.
Day three started with a Vinyasa yoga class in the morning, then a walking meditation in the spice garden at midday, followed by a HIIT class in the afternoon. My continuous journalling turned into letters that I poured my whole heart into. I’m not a good communicator and verbalising my feelings makes me uncomfortable. These letters were filled with the words I didn’t have the courage to say. They were the musings and reflections of what had been consuming so many of my thoughts over the last few months. I finally had the time to stop and think about where I was in my life and where I wanted to be.
We’re always so ‘on’ as mums. School drop-offs, full days of work, rushing home to cook dinner, trying to emotionally connect with family, sneaking in a social life and contemplating, with what little precious time in the day we have left, whether to work out or go to bed. It’s a lot. But now I had the opportunity to sit with myself again. I remembered that I used to be a go-with-the-flow, fun, adventurous person. Before there was a job, a husband and kids, there was me – untethered and unencumbered. And guess what? I missed me. I liked that version of myself. This was what I was like before life got the best of me. And I wondered, maybe I can introduce that girl to the adult version of me? Tell her to relax. To not be so afraid. Remind her that being spontaneous isn’t as impossible as you think when you have kids. Teach her to believe everything will be alright. That the universe has your back.
On my final day, I had my first snorkelling experience. I marvelled at the colours of the water until we reached our spot an hour from shore. I jumped into the water and as I frolicked and floated in the Indian Ocean, I felt free, yet so connected. My boat captain didn’t speak English and I don’t speak a word of Swahili. But there I was, in the middle of the Indian Ocean, trusting these people with my life. We didn’t speak the same language but they understood me and I understood them. Out there where the vastness of the universe seemed unending, I felt a sense of oneness. It is the thread that holds us all together.
The trip was a transformative experience. I did something that scared me. I had honest conversations with myself. I met new people. I explored a beautiful part of the planet. I came home with stories and experiences that made me feel so rich. I felt like me again – the updated version.
When I returned, I posted on Instagram about my experience. A friend wrote: “Are you on vacation alone? That would take you to hero status.” I didn’t feel like a hero. I felt something much better: I felt like me.
From Harper’s Bazaar Arabia July-August 2021 Issue.