Solo Travelin’ With Tracee Ellis Ross
There is a disparate difference between feeling lonely and experiencing bouts of sadness, yet intimately they are sister realms of discomfort in oneself. Loneliness feels like an absence, a vacancy where connection once lived or where we desperately want it to exist. Sadness, however, is a flood, a heavy tide that rises and falls whether we are alone or in the company of others. Both can feel isolating, both can sting, but they are not the same.
I’ve been watching Solo Travel with Tracee Ellis Ross on Roku, and it’s had me contemplating what singlehood means to me, how I hold it now, and how I want it to unfold in the years ahead. At 18, being single was about awaiting the moment I wouldn’t be. Every swoop of my baby hair or precision in the switch of my hips was a concentrated attempt to not be single anymore. But the older I get, the more I realize that singlehood isn’t something to escape: it’s something to inhabit. It’s less about proving myself to someone else and more about discovering the fullness of who I am when no one else is in the frame.
In the show, Ross reflects on the beauty and courage of stepping out into the world on her own—her first solo trip being just at the ripe age of 24. Just one year younger than she was at the time, I’ve felt a similar calling, as if her show was whispering an invitation directly to me.
What I love about Ross’ storytelling is that it doesn’t glamorize solitude, nor does it frame it as something to be pitied. Instead, she treats traveling—and living—alone as a practice of becoming more acquainted with yourself. She honors solitude as a space of curiosity, joy, and freedom, while also acknowledging the edges of discomfort that come with being your only company. It’s not about running away from relationships or community, but about learning to savor your own presence.
Watching her wander cities, try new foods, laugh to herself, and lean into wonder reminded me that singlehood is not a waiting room for partnership. It can be an expansive, intentional chapter in its own right. For me, singledome doesn’t need to be framed as “lack.” Instead, I want it to manifest as exploration—of place, of self, of the many versions of me that I might not discover in the shadow of someone else’s expectations.
And so I hereby pledge, as the sole proprietor of HoneyTeePot, to solo travel right here in Cleveland—locally, until the funds permit—just like my sis Tracee. I want to explore the beauty in my own backyard, whether it’s biking the Towpath Trail that stretches from Tremont to Ohio City or digging into Korean BBQ in the boroughs of Coventry. I want to know what it feels like to truly adore my city without depending on the company of others. And if y’all are really in this for the long haul with me, you won’t let me do it alone.
Stream Solo Travel with Tracee Ellis Ross on Roku and let it inspire your own journey.