I have always considered myself someone who travels. I traveled along the Eastern seaboard, from Maine to Florida, as a kid in an RV. I drove from Boston to Los Angeles when I relocated in 2013. I’ve been to Tennessee three different times — once driving from Boston to Manchester for Bonnaroo with four girlfriends in a Mountaineer. I’ve seen the lights of Vegas, the green river on St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago, and the vineyards of Napa, but I haven’t traveled much outside of the United States — aside from a one-time trip to Cancun for spring break when I was twenty, and we won’t get into those adventures.

In my twenties, I imagined traveling with a group of girlfriends to places like Ibiza and Santorini. We’d enjoy the nightlife, meet fun people — read: sexy men — and have memories to bond us for years. Unfortunately, we were broke, and those dreams remained just that.

In my early and mid thirties, I thought I’d travel with a boyfriend — a boyfriend who I would meet at some point in the future. He would want to experience the antiquities of Rome, tour Versailles, and take a sunset cruise in Mallorca. Needless to say, I have yet to make it across the pond.

At the end of last year, I was reflecting on the places I had visited and the places I still hadn’t. I realized waiting for someone else had been keeping me from living the life I wanted to live. I might never find a gal pal who wants to see the South of France or a partner who wants to walk the Great Wall of China, but holding out for an imagined future was stopping me from building experiences for myself in the present.

With this trip, I am giving myself permission to want something and go after it. I hope traveling alone brings me more confidence to do things independently — even locally in my own city — and teaches me to move at my own pace. I hope it ultimately serves as a reminder that life does not need to wait for the ideal group or partner.

Barcelona might not be your dream. You might not even want to travel. But if there is something you’ve been postponing because you are waiting for the perfect time, the perfect relationship, or the perfect version of yourself, maybe this is your push to stop waiting.

I am not traveling abroad alone because I am fearless. Quite the opposite. I have fears and anxiety — big ones. Huge. I am worried about getting lost, eating dinner alone in public, and feeling lonely. I am sure parts of the trip will be unforgettable and empowering, and others will be awkward and unfamiliar. But I would rather be nervous in Barcelona than comfortable in Sherman Oaks, holding out for the right circumstances.