My Five Stages of Travel Emotions
When I was growing up, I thought traveling had to contain a level of stress and misery. It always included running through airports, waiting for hours while our flight schedules were rearranged, arguing with my sister, and being told to keep my mouth shut about dishonesty on our customs claim sheets. I felt the layer of financial stress over every decision as well as my own frustration about being out of control. I thought that was how everyone experienced travel.
All of this is not to say that traveling in general was not fun, worthwhile, and a huge privilege. However, I had to train the anxiety out of myself as an independently traveling adult. I have had to learn how to self-regulate with deep breaths. I avoid caffeine and skip the sugary beverages, knowing that sitting still with my body will be easier without these substances. I also consistently remind myself that I have plenty of time, I am prepared, telling the truth is best since I have nothing to hide, and I am so lucky and happy to be traveling. I do not want to taint my travel with unnecessary stress and headache.
Since graduating from college almost five years ago, I have taken many solo trips to visit friends and family all around the country and world. It has been a huge source of joy, pairing exploration with quality friend-time. On those trips, I have sorted out how I feel about travel, rather than how I feel traveling in my family unit.
According to a commonly regarded theory there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The stages do not happen in a linear progression, rather most people bounce around depending on the day and other circumstances. While preparing for a recent vacation, I realized I similarly experience five stages of travel emotions: excitement, apathy, anxiety, dread, and gratitude.
I am very excited when I initially purchase my tickets. On my most recent trip my brain kept tricking me into thinking I was leaving soon, even though I purchased my tickets several months in advance. I would have that momentary wave of excitement before realizing how premature I was. Eventually, that initial excitement dissipates. Although I feel happy and look forward to the trip, it often feels so far in the future that it is hard to work myself up to being excited.
That is when the apathy sets in. I am not dreading the trip at this point, but I just go on living life and sometimes forget the upcoming trip altogether. How is one supposed to keep a distant trip at the forefront of their mind when there are groceries to buy, jobs to do, dishes to wash, walls to climb, dinners to make, books to read, hills to ski, friends to see? It feels like my trip is so far in the future that it will never come.
Anxiety comes and goes. Immediately after spending a large chunk of money I do not feel amazing. I wonder if I could have gotten a better deal. On this particular trip I wondered if I could really afford to take two weeks unpaid from work. I even feel some anxiety over whether or not I am really wanted where I am going. Like my excitement, my anxiety typically fades away… I do not have the energy for or affliction of (currently, thankfully!) ever-present anxiety.
As my trip nears, dread sets in. Packing, logistics, and thoughts of long flights are all factors. However, the biggest culprit is putting my introverted, slightly socially-anxious, self out there. This is the component that is hardest to describe. When I was a kid, my mom would make my sister and I go hiking with her. We would stubbornly drag our heels, fight her on it, find as many bargaining points as possible, whine and complain, eventually concede, then have a great time.
Now that I am an adult, I am the mom and child in one; and it is all happening in my brain. (I am sorry, mom, this is exhausting!) I know I will have a good trip, but I also know that it would be easier to stay home. Traveling is not easy, even though it is exciting, eye-opening, and magical. I fight my sense of dread by reminding myself of Brené Brown’s strategy of telling fear that it can come along for the ride, but it may not drive and it may not navigate. I trust that the effort will pay off in the end.
The battle with dread finally subsides when I make it through security at the airport. As I walk toward my gate, the wave of gratitude washes over me. I often get teary and wonder at how I got so lucky to have this life. It is easy to feel like I have a lot less than others. I often wonder if I will claim a place in middle-class America. I can even start to feel unlucky and bitter. But who am I to feel this way? I am so fortunate to get to explore this world, to have friends spread far and wide that will take me in, to have clients that say okay when I ask for two weeks off, and to have enough expendable income to make it happen. Wow. I choose to feel grateful.
And once the gratitude washes away my dread and warms my body from my soul to my skin, I am overcome with excitement all over again. This time the excitement is all the stronger because of the emotional journey I have been on. My eyes brighten, I cannot hide my smile, and my shoulders do a little dance. Not only am I excited and grateful, I am proud of myself for getting through the muck and taking full advantage of what being a human can mean.