The narratives we carry: My first solo travel...

For a long time, I followed and repeated the narrative that I was an anxious person. I sought reassurance constantly, copied what others were doing and often looked externally for cues on how to behave, what was “normal” and how to stay safe. Looking back now, I think a lot of my life was shaped around trying to reduce discomfort, avoid judgement. I wanted to feel accepted.

Over the years I have grown physically and mentally. I genuinely believe going through difficulties and adversity can build and strengthen resilience. This is something I now feel confident saying about myself — I am a resilient person.

I think for much of my life I was outside of my comfort zone, but not always in a healthy or intentional way. Sometimes it came from people pleasing, survival, wanting to fit in or trying to become the version of myself I thought others would like more. I followed others to feel accepted, interesting, safe and enough.

In past parts of my life I experienced this through being placed in environments and situations I would never have chosen for myself, but placed in by others. I also chose to place myself into situations that felt uncomfortable in order to feel accepted, liked or interesting.

It’s only now, in my mid to late 30s, that I feel I have started choosing discomfort in a more beneficial and meaningful way. Not to prove myself to others, but to build trust within myself.

I have slowly moved away from environments, situations and even people that kept me in a constant state of anxiety, feeling unsafe, feeling not "normal" or "not good enough". In doing so, I’ve realised how much our surroundings, relationships and experiences shape the narratives we attach to ourselves.

"I am a resilient person."

I have surrounded myself with more positive influences and I think it is only now that I have started creating a new narrative — one I choose to follow for myself, at least in this moment. As with anything, things can change.

This doesn’t mean that my anxiety and people pleasing have magically disappeared. They still show up every now and then.

Today I travelled alone to Italy for the first time.

Day One

The bus from Wilberfoss to York train station was on time and pleasant. I did struggle slightly with my own self imposed rule of trying not to hold onto the poles while standing because I couldn’t quite keep my balance. It genuinely freaks me out thinking about how many people might have picked their bogies or bums or not washed their hands after urinating or opening their bowels. The bus became a little jerky towards the end of the journey and I instinctively reached out for support a couple of times. I’ll try harder next time ⚖️

At York station I visited Pret and had boiled eggs, spinach and a latte. If I’m honest, this particular Pret feels slightly dated and probably isn’t my favourite, but it did the job. I also picked up salmon on rye bread for lunch later on.

I initially couldn’t find the women’s toilets and briefly considered using the disabled toilets before realising they were blocked off. I eventually found the main toilets. They were clean, there was a little bit of queuing.

One thing I noticed here was how much reassurance I still quietly seek in unfamiliar situations. Despite checking my journey several times, I approached a member of staff to confirm I was boarding the correct train. The screen said London Kings Cross while I was travelling to Peterborough. The staff member I spoke to was incredibly helpful and showed me how to properly use the Trainline app to break down both journeys I was taking that day. I felt genuinely grateful afterwards. It reminded me that it is okay to ask for help and reassurance, sometimes.

The train from York to Peterborough was actually a really positive experience. I could clearly see my digital seat reservation, which made me feel calmer. The train was clean, the staff were pleasant and efficient and there was a really clear explanation given regarding a slight delay and what passengers should do if they missed connecting trains. I realised how much I appreciate calm, predictable communication in situations like this. The lady doing the tannoy announcement honestly sounded like an angel.

I watched Netflix, sipped water and slowly started to settle into the journey.

Changing trains in Peterborough went smoothly, which I was relieved about.

The second train felt more dated and slightly worn. I couldn’t quite work out whether it was dirty or just heavily used, if that makes sense. There was less space but the seats were comfortable enough. There were no digital seat reservation screens, I suddenly became aware that I had no idea whether the seat I was sitting in had been allocated to somebody else and whether I was going to be awkwardly asked to move at some point.

Anyways, I ate my salmon on rye bread and carried on watching my Netflix documentary — Worst Ex Ever, if you wanted to know. Apparently travelling independently and watching murder documentaries is the current trend.

I arrived at Stansted Airport train station, walked down the platform and through the barriers into Stansted Airport, straight through security, all within under ten minutes. I genuinely could not believe how smoothly it all went.

From there I arrived in departures, the screen said "relax". I had a wander around some shops before grabbing something to eat. Afterwards I sat at a bar and ordered myself a prosecco. Sitting next to me was a lovely lady from Italy called Maria. We chatted, laughed and shared stories about our lives — two people whose paths would probably never have crossed had we not happened to sit next to each other at that exact moment.

Eventually the gate was announced and I headed over, slightly panicking because I knew I was pushing my luck with baggage. I had booked hand luggage only. I had heard on the grapevine that Ryanair is strict with bag sizes and only allowing one bag. I had one bag that definitely did not fit into the bloody example thingy that are proudly display to terrify people, and another bag besides. I knew I was pushing it and that I might get fined, but I did it anyway.

Whilst waiting I met another lovely lady called Tina. Again, a stranger I got chatting to. We shared stories from our lives and laughed together.

Onto the plane I went.

I sat next to an Italian woman who I’m going to call Alice, although I know I’m pronouncing her actual name incorrectly. Within minutes we were chatting non stop. Alice apologised repeatedly for her "poor English", which I thought was AMAZING. We ended up with a free seat on our row so she invited her partner to come and sit with us.

There were some quite times alongside Alice and I spoking about our life stories and laughed together. She gave me her email address and we added each other on Instagram. I really hope we keep in touch. We discovered tat we both work within mental health. Alice also really loves tea — all different kinds. She asked me if Whittards was a good brand and I offered her reassurance.

Off the plane I went. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

My sister Laura was waiting for me on the other side — Italy, Pescara.

Laura has lived in Penne, Italy, with her husband John and their children, my niece Isabella (Izzy) and nephew Jake (Jakey), for around twenty years now. I had visited once before with my husband Jason and our children (Jason's step children) Annabelle and Alfie around two years ago. What fun we had. At the time I casually said I would visit alone one day. I don’t think I believed myself when I said it.

Before this visit Laura and I had not spoken for ten years — a difficult part of both of our stories. I am so grateful we found our way back to being sisters again and that I now have the opportunity to be a sister in law and aunty again too. Life is full of experiences — some beautiful, some painful and some simply complicated.

Laura eventually picked me up after getting into an argument with an Italian man who apparently did not want her using a particular exit in her camper van. Laura used the exit he did not want her to anyways.

We struggled getting back from the airport. There were closed roads and what should have been a 45 minute journey ended up taking almost two hours. Honestly though, we barely noticed because we both did not shut our faces.

When we finally arrived “home”, Laura poured us both a glass of prosecco to celebrate the start of our time and adventures together.

And there it was.

I had travelled alone to another country.

Day Two

We went on a bike ride from Città Sant’Angelo beach to Silvi Marina.

We stopped for lunch, I ordered a Taglia cozzo, which apparently is similar to a “ploughman’s platter”. We drove by the coast and through pine woodlands, this place was beautiful. We continue on our bike ride and followed this by having ice cream afterwards.

Simple things, but perfect and grounding.

Day Three

We enjoyed a chilled morning followed by foraging on Laura’s and her neighbour’s land collecting elderflowers, lemon balm, mint, oregano and wild garlic. There was something strangely calming about gathering ingredients directly from the land.

We made pasta for tea and prepared elderflower cordial using recipes and ingredients we had found ourselves.

We were meant to meet Laura’s friend but they couldn’t make it in the end, so instead we visited a lake and a conservation area with hybrid wolves, a porcupine and turtles. We laughed and spent time together simply as sisters.

Later in the day we visited Penne and had a glass of prosecco where Laura used to host language exchange evenings. The place was called Tibo. I love learning about Laura’s life and all she has done. To say she is an interesting human is an understatement. She inspires me with the stories she shares.

I started noticing how much slower life felt here. More conversational. More connected.

Less rushed.

Day Four

We visited Città Sant’Angelo and had a wander around.

Later we headed to the beach and did a mini SUP, stand up paddle, Laura used the kayak kit before we headed for sushi at Sushi Niko.

Afterwards we visited Laura’s oldest friend in Italy, Lou, at her beautiful home.

When we arrived back home the evening ended quietly drinking or homemade elderflower cordial which honestly tasted incredible.

We spent the evening having some alone time. I read my book and started watching a documentary called Plastic Detox. Very interesting… and I felt a hyper fixation coming on.

Day Five

We met Laura’s ex pat friend Katy and her two children in the mountains for a picnic and a walk. I love seeing the connections Laura has built and the life she and her family have created for themselves.

When we got home it was pizza and movie night — a Forsyth Saturday night tradition.

John made pizza and I picked the film. We enjoyed a few drinks and had fun trying yoga postures and some mobility challenges afterwards.

I gave feedback to Laura and John regarding their walking habits, which they were both intrigued by. John wanted to go walking in the hills that night to try out what we had discussed… he went to bed instead.

Day Six

ROAD TRIP!!!

Laura and John have a camper van which has withstood many travels on sea and land… and even an internal combustion (fire). I bloody love this machine.

We visited Civitella del Tronto, home to one of the oldest and largest fortresses in Italy and Europe. There was something surreal about wandering through medieval streets whilst casually discussing Garibaldi biscuits. Jason, my husband, found this highly amusing and decided we were visiting a biscuit factory instead of a fortress.

We stumbled upon a wine tasting event within this “biscuit factory” fortress. We hadn’t purchased tickets at the gate. We asked if we could simply pay for a glass of wine each, we were initially turned away. A couple of Italian people behind us somehow arranged for us to join and they weren’t even going to charge us. I have encountered such kindness on this trip. Laura gave them some euros as a thank you.

I tried:

Trebbiano d’Abruzzo, white wine

Cerasuolo, rosé

Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, red wine

The white wine was my favourite.

I had a traditional Abruzzo porchetta pork sandwich which felt like one of those simple travel moments you weirdly remember forever. It was bloody lovely.

We later visited Ascoli Piceno and stopped for aperitivo — an Italian tradition where people gather before dinner for drinks, snacks and conversation. We visited a café that honestly reminded me a little of Bettys in York. The food was lovely and the staff were too.

Later we went to grab a bite to eat. The atmosphere in the here wasn’t quite the romantic Italian image I had conjured in my mind, but the food, company and conversation were great.

I fancied a coffee afterwards, however we stumbled across live music playing in a tiny side alley bar completely by accident. One of those moments you could never really plan for. It was brilliant. I ordered a prosecco instead.

That night we slept in the camper van. It was hilarious. We laughed a lot. I felt as though I was playing the role of an annoying little sister again, maybe making up for some of the lost years.

The next morning we woke up refreshed. I survived the night in what felt like the world’s smallest sleeping space. Apparently I twitch and mumble in my sleep. I also survived using the compost toilet in the van. I have passed the test and can now officially be part of the camper van world, apparently.

We wandered around local shops after breakfast and somehow ended up being filmed by a Chinese woman for a TikTok video. Her channel is called Linda in Italy. Only us could something like this happen to. We may or may not become accidentally TikTok famous.

Later we visited Roseto, had lunch at a restaurant on the beach and then ice cream from Laura’s favourite ice cream shop.

That evening I held an online yoga session for my students back in the UK which felt really special, even though the video cut out slightly towards the end. There was something lovely about connecting two completely different parts of my life together.

Pizza followed later that evening at a traditional restaurant. It was bloody lovely. I ate every bite. Laura likes saving some for breakfast the following morning — something I did not know until now.

Day Seven

I woke up early, enjoyed one last cuppa whilst staring out at the view from the patio and then packed my bags before spending some time with Laura and John and saying ciao.

On the way to the airport Laura took me to see her neighbour Tina. We had drinks and cake. There was absolutely no way Tina was letting us leave without feeding and hydrating us first. She reminded me of my nanna. I love my nanna a lot.

Before heading to the airport I and Laura visited Penne one final time on this adventure, wandered around the shops and I picked up gifts for Jason and the children.

Laura dropped me at Pescara Airport.

We hugged goodbye and off she went.

Our adventure together had come to an end.

I had a sandwich and cappuccino and took one final look around the tiny airport shops before heading home.

I have had time to reflect, grow and reconnect — not only with my sister, but with myself too.

This trip was never really just about travelling to Italy. It became about noticing old narratives without letting them define me. It became about trusting myself more, asking for help when I needed it, connecting with strangers, laughing more, slowing down and recognising how deeply our environments and relationships shape the way we feel within ourselves.

Confidence, resilience and growth rarely look dramatic from the outside in. Sometimes they look like sitting on a slightly worn train overthinking whether your seat is reserved. Sometimes they look like missing plans and finding something unexpectedly beautiful instead. Sometimes they look like drinking homemade elderflower cordial in a quiet Italian village.

"I am resilient"

"I am confident"

"I am enough"

" I have travelled alone"