Precisely one day before my youngest turns 21, and I am in Aruba, on vacation…alone. Party of one.
A semi conscience decision, I suppose. I definitely wanted vacation. I was pretty set on Aruba…I wasn’t set on s.o.l.o…
But as we all know…things don’t always go as planned. Anywho…long story short, it was either go by yourself (suck it up) or don’t go at all. So I grow a set, and board the plane, solo, headed for Aruba!
So here’s the deal…why, when you travel alone, are you seemingly treated differently? The flights were fine, the airports were fine. Customs was fine, but I couldn’t help notice that everyone approaching the podium was a party of two. Man and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, partner and partner…and then there was me…party of one…no, just one.
I check into the hotel and the guy at the desk says (in his Aruban accent) “Ok ma’am, 3 nights, I show for one??!” Yes, that’s correct, I respond. I almost feel the need to explain…”Yes, really…I have lots of friends, and even a boyfriend (I think?!), it’s just that none of them were able to rearrange their schedules or finances accordingly….no really…I have friends!”
And so I begin my vacation…party of one.
Every wheres I go I am greeted with the same question…”just one?” as if that were a bad thing?! Yes, just one…(do you see anyone else??!?) Ever notice how you’re never asked “just two?” or “just three?” Yeah, no I get it, most going out for dinner are a party of two or more, but sometimes single people need to eat too, and there should be no shame in that.
Although I will confess dinner for one was much easier to pull off after a grapefruit martini at the lobby bar…and yes, I am speaking from experience. Because as a woman I met from Mississippi said ( in a very thick southern drawl) “well good fer yooooou, ya know, I think it’s awl about attituuuude…” she and her entire extended family were in Aruba for her nieces wedding. Nicer people you could not meet! And I found myself wishing I belonged to a big ol’ family…you know, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, embarrassing grandparents…the whole gambit. But alas, ’twas not the case. And then I made the conscience choice. I remembered what the woman with the thick southern accent had said”…it’s awwwl about ya’alz attitude…”
And when the hostess at the restaurant questioned “how many?” I answered confidently “…one please.” No apologies, this was a conscience choice, and I did not sell myself short by answering “just” one.
Ahhhh yes…the power of one. Be comfortable in your own skin. You ARE good company. You are worthy of a lovely meal, in a lovely restaurant, and there is no shame in “a party of one.”
Bon Appetite!
Thanks for sharing. I’ve travelled a lot by myself so I’ve had the “just one” quite a bit. Some places are much more accommodating than others. The Netherlands, Italy and Australia are great like this. Even at home I love treating myself to a great meal and good glass of wine at one of my favourite spots. I’d add, that being happy in your own company is a great sign of wellbeing.
Cheers