Not All Connection Feels Like Home

I recently realized something about myself that feels both beautiful and a little inconvenient: I can travel alone, I do travel alone, and I do it well.

I am not afraid of the world. I am resourceful, independent, and perfectly capable of creating joy for myself wherever I go. I can figure things out. I can sit alone at a restaurant, book a tour, navigate a new city, and make a full experience out of it. But just because I can do something does not mean it is what fills me most.

What fills me most is connection.

And not just any kind of connection. I am not talking about small talk, pleasant company, or those lovely but brief encounters that last only as long as a meal, a tour, or a sunset. I mean real connection. The kind that has history. The kind that feels familiar. The kind that makes a place feel warmer because you are sharing it with people who already know your heart.

I have traveled to many places with partners, with family, and with friends. And yes, traveling with others requires more work. Of course, I am usually the planner. I am the one thinking about the itinerary, what we are doing next, where we are eating, how we are getting there, and whether we are making the most of the day.

That is just who I am.

And still, even with all of that, I prefer it to being by myself all the time.

Because there is a comfort that comes from shared history. There is something special about sharing lived moments, posing for a selfie, or driving to that one spot just because someone you are traveling with is curious about it or has heard of it. There is an ease that comes from being with people who know you well. There is a different kind of joy in turning to someone you love in the middle of a beautiful moment and knowing that it is landing in both of your hearts at the same time.

I was just in Quebec City on a girls’ trip, though I jokingly called it the mother-daughter trip because it was with my mother, my friend Yessie, and her daughter Gabriela. We enjoyed every moment of that trip together. Even the drive itself became part of the adventure. There was laughter, ease, spontaneity, and that kind of familiarity that makes the whole experience richer. The beauty of the place mattered, of course, but what made the trip feel special was the energy we created together.

I am also traveling to Mexico soon with the ladies from my book club, and I am genuinely excited about it. Not just because of where we are going, but because I already know this trip will deepen some of the connections I have begun building. There is something beautiful about traveling with people and getting to know them more deeply while you are celebrating life together. Travel has a way of doing that. It gives you time, shared experience, inside jokes, unexpected moments, and the kind of memories that naturally bring people closer.

Yes, when you travel alone, you absolutely have the opportunity to meet interesting people. You can have a lovely conversation at a restaurant, on the street, during a tour, or at that one historic place you simply must visit because otherwise it feels like you were never really in that city at all.

Those moments can be beautiful. They can be fun. They can stay with you for the rest of your life because some of them are so special, it is hard to forget they happened.

But they are not always enough for me. Because not all connection feels like home.

My last solo vacation was a 13-day trip to Spain. I visited Madrid, Valencia, and Sevilla, and each city gave me something different. But more than that, each one revealed something different about me. I arrived in Madrid, and right away it felt amazing because I already had people there. I had plans. I had connection waiting for me.

The next day I went on a tour, met my friend Isabel for drinks, and went clubbing the day after that. I met my niece Vipsania and her husband for afternoon cocktails after spending the day at the Prado Museum. I went to a tablao with my friends Marta and Altagracia. And as life would have it, Altagracia, my friend from Massachusetts, happened to be in Spain at the same time I was, so we were able to spend time together there too.

Those days in Madrid felt like a vacation, yes, but also like something more grounded. I was away, but I was still held. That makes a difference.

Then I went to Valencia, and Valencia was another story because I was not even sure I knew anyone there. But from the moment I arrived, something about it felt magical.

Valencia felt smaller, more traditional, easier to navigate, and somehow immediately welcoming. I found an amazing rooftop, and before the night was over, something in me had relaxed. The DJ was this super cool Venezuelan woman, and we connected right away. The music was familiar, and when they started playing Juan Luis Guerra, mi compatriota, I felt that little spark of joy that comes when something in a foreign place suddenly feels like yours. The whole Sunday vibe was merengue, salsa, and bachata.

I arrived on a high.

The next day I had a paella class scheduled, and it ended up being one of the best experiences of my entire trip. I learned how to make incredible paella from Chef Daniel, and to this day we are still connected. I would absolutely recommend that experience to anyone who goes to Valencia.

Then I found out Adriano, the father of my nephew, lives in Valencia, and I connected with him too. It was wonderful spending time with him and getting so many tips for the rest of my trip.

Valencia ended up being my favorite place. Maybe it was because it was small and easy to navigate. Maybe it was because the people felt warm and open. Maybe it was because I connected so quickly, even unexpectedly, with the people there. Or maybe it was because Valencia reminded me that sometimes what makes a place unforgettable is not only what you see, but what opens up inside of you while you are there.

What opened up in me there was joy. And a feeling of belonging.

Then I went to Sevilla, my last city. And Sevilla taught me something else.

Now let me be clear: Sevilla was beautiful. I understand why so many people love it. It is full of charm, history, movement, and beauty. I saw gorgeous places. I had wonderful moments. I enjoyed what I saw.

But emotionally, it felt different. I did not connect there in the same way I had in Madrid or Valencia.

The only people I really connected with were other tourists during the tours I packed into two days: Granada, Alhambra, Albaicín, Córdoba, Pueblo Blanco, and Ronda. Yes, I packed all of that into two days. That alone should tell you something about me.

And I met nice people. I had pleasant conversations. I shared smiles, recommendations, and those little flashes of intimacy that happen when strangers are briefly united by beauty. But they were temporary. Passing-by connections. Vacation connections.

And there is nothing wrong with that.

But that part of the trip made something very clear to me: temporary connection may be lovely, but it does not nourish me in the same way. I need more than a moment.I need depth. I need continuity. I need community. I need the kind of true companionship that carries memory, familiarity, trust, and the comfort of being known. That is what this trip brought into focus for me.

Each of us has different needs.

And as I keep getting to know myself more honestly, I am discovering that I am happiest when I am deeply connected to others and when I have community that lasts. Community with history. Community with roots. Community with real emotional substance.

That is what fulfills me.

I still want to travel the world. Even though I have already been to many places, there are still so many more I want to see. I believe I still have a lifetime of travel ahead of me.

And now I find myself hoping for one of two things: either I learn how to enjoy solo travel in a deeper, fuller way, or I continue building a village of people with whom I can share these experiences. Maybe both.

More and more, I am learning that life is not only about the places we go. It is also about who meets us there, who walks beside us, and who helps turn a beautiful moment into a meaningful one.

And maybe that is the real lesson. Not all connection feels like home. But when it does, you know it. And once you know that feeling, you stop confusing it with anything less.

Until next time.