The Neurodivergent Middle-Aged Joy of Solo Road Trips
The exhilaration that comes with autonomy, freedom and the space to enjoy it
Road trips are without a doubt one of my favorite things. To follow one of the roads that lead out of this large, busy and noisy city into unfolding wide-open spaces is pure joy. As buildings give way to forests, my heat-rate slows and I exhale properly for the first time since I can’t remember when. Probably the last road trip.
This simple joy is so integral to my wellbeing that I will never take it for granted. During the pandemic, government directives confined me to the city for months on end while wiping out a whole lot of mental health supports. It was a dark time, the likes of which I hope never to see again.
It is solo road trips that are my lifeblood. While not dismissing the value of travel shared with loved ones, it is a very different experience. There is an exhilarating freedom that comes with only having to answer to yourself, if only for a few days.
When I was younger, I did a lot of travel by myself. While in hindsight it seems like a bold statement of female autonomy, at the time it was purely out of necessity. I was rarely in anything resembling a relationship (more likely to be mourning the premature end of one of the failure of one…
