When I was 20 years old and working as a flight attendant in Australia, I dreamed of travelling abroad for the first time. I finally had the savings to make it happen, so I contacted friends and my boyfriend, hoping to plan a trip together. But no one was available—either they were too busy or didn’t have the money. I felt stuck, believing my dream depended on others’ schedules and finances.

Then, a friend said something that changed my life: “Just go by yourself.” At first, the idea felt foreign and overwhelming. Growing up, I had always needed permission or someone else to join me for things like this. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised she was right. Why not go alone?

With a lot of hesitation and anxiety, I decided to do it. I applied for two weeks of leave and booked a solo trip to Paris. My family didn’t support the idea; they thought it was unsafe for a woman to travel alone. My boyfriend was worried about what others would think of our relationship, and my friends doubted I could even make it a day alone. But instead of letting their negativity stop me, I used it as fuel to prove them wrong.

Planning the trip was nerve-wracking. I had no idea how to organise my travels, so I went to a travel agency to figure it out. Every step felt daunting—choosing flights, booking accommodation, arranging transportation—but I kept pushing forward, even though I constantly second-guessed myself. My nerves were at an all-time high by the time my departure day came, but my determination outweighed my fear.