The Solo Decision
Taylor had never traveled solo before. At 27, she'd always vacationed with friends, family, or boyfriends. But after a difficult breakup and feeling stuck in her graphic design career in Seattle, she felt a pull toward something different—something that was entirely hers.
Scrolling through Instagram late one night, she came across photos of Santa Teresa: waves, sunsets, and people who looked genuinely happy. On impulse, she booked two weeks at Zeneidas Surf Garden. The moment she hit "confirm," a mix of excitement and terror washed over her. What had she just done?
The weeks leading up to her departure were filled with second-guessing. Friends asked if she was sure about traveling alone. Her mom worried about safety. Taylor herself oscillated between excitement and fear, sometimes considering canceling the whole thing.
The Arrival
Stepping off the shuttle in Santa Teresa, Taylor's nervousness peaked. Everyone seemed to know each other, to belong to groups. She felt conspicuously alone as she checked into Zeneidas, wondering if she'd made a huge mistake.
That feeling lasted about an hour. At the welcome gathering that evening, she met Sophie from France, also traveling solo. Then Jake from Australia, taking a month off between jobs. By dinner, she was laughing at a table with six people from four different countries, all drawn together by shared curiosity and openness.
"I came here alone and left with a family from around the world," Taylor often says when describing her experience. But it didn't happen automatically—it happened because the environment at Zeneidas fosters genuine connection, and because Taylor chose to be open to it.
First Wave, First Victory
Taylor had never surfed and was intimidated by the idea of learning in front of others. What if she looked stupid? What if everyone else was better? What if she couldn't do it?
Her surf instructor, sensing her nervousness during the first lesson, pulled her aside. "Everyone here started exactly where you are," he said. "The ocean doesn't care about your Instagram followers or your job title. Out here, we're all just people trying to catch waves."
That simple truth was liberating. And when Taylor caught her first wave on day two, standing up and riding it all the way to shore, the cheers from her fellow beginners felt more meaningful than any professional achievement. She had done something entirely new, entirely outside her comfort zone, and succeeded.
Surfing became her daily meditation. Some days she progressed quickly; others, she seemed to forget everything she'd learned. But that inconsistency taught her something valuable: growth isn't linear, and that's okay. You show up, you try, you learn, and you show up again tomorrow.
Building Confidence
What Taylor didn't expect was how much confidence she'd build—not just in surfing, but in life. Every day at Zeneidas required small acts of courage: joining a group at breakfast, trying yoga for the first time, attending the ice bath session despite her fear of cold water, signing up for the ceramics workshop even though she'd never been "artistic."
Each small risk paid off. The ice bath sessions, initially terrifying, became empowering experiences where she learned she could endure more than she thought. The yoga classes improved her surf performance while giving her mental tools for managing anxiety. The ceramics workshops revealed a creative side she'd suppressed in her commercial design work.
She started saying yes more—to morning workouts, to exploring new beaches, to spontaneous road trips with new friends. The person emerging was braver, more spontaneous, more confident than the one who'd arrived two weeks earlier.
The Creative Rekindling
Working remotely a few hours each day from beachside cafes, Taylor found her creativity flourishing in ways it hadn't in years. Away from office politics and the same four walls, her design work took on new life. She completed projects faster and with more originality than she had in months.
She also started a personal project: a series of digital illustrations capturing the essence of Santa Teresa—the waves, the sunsets, the community feel. Posting them on Instagram, she was surprised by the response. Within days, a local surf shop approached her about creating designs for their merchandise.
That side project, born from pure creative joy rather than client demands, reminded Taylor what had drawn her to design in the first place. She realized that somewhere along the way, she'd started treating her passion as merely a job.
The Extended Stay
What was supposed to be two weeks turned into four. Taylor rearranged her client schedule, extended her Airbnb, and settled into what felt increasingly like home. She was surfing intermediate waves now, her yoga practice was solid, and she'd become someone newer guests looked to for advice and reassurance.
She also started dating Lucas, a photographer from Brazil who'd been at Zeneidas for three months. It wasn't something she'd been looking for—she'd come here to focus on herself. But the relationship developed naturally, without pressure or expectation, and it felt different from anything she'd experienced before.
Lessons in Independence
Solo travel taught Taylor lessons she couldn't have learned any other way. She discovered she could handle challenges alone—from navigating language barriers to dealing with lost luggage to making major decisions without consulting anyone.
But more importantly, she learned that being alone doesn't mean being lonely. She discovered the difference between solitude (which she now craved) and isolation (which she'd been experiencing in Seattle without realizing it). She learned that she could be complete on her own while also being open to connection.
The confidence gained from solo travel spilled into every area of her life. Back in Seattle, she renegotiated her rates with clients, set stronger boundaries around work hours, and ended a draining friendship she'd been holding onto out of habit rather than genuine connection.
The Return
Returning to Seattle was harder than Taylor expected. Everything was the same, but she was completely different. Her apartment felt too cluttered. Her social circle felt too insular. The gray skies felt oppressive after weeks of tropical sunshine.
But instead of slipping back into her old life, Taylor made changes. She said no to projects that didn't excite her. She prioritized time outdoors, even in Seattle's rain. She joined a local surf community, driving to the coast on weekends. She continued her personal illustration work, eventually launching a successful print shop.
Most importantly, she committed to returning to Santa Teresa every six months. Those trips became her anchor points, times to reset, reconnect with the community that had become family, and remember who she was beyond her work and obligations.
The Ripple Effect
Taylor's transformation inspired others in her life. Friends who'd initially worried about her solo travel started planning their own adventures. Her social media followers, watching her journey from nervous solo traveler to confident adventurer, reached out with their own stories of taking leaps.
She started a blog sharing tips for solo female travelers, particularly those considering surf camps. Her message: "The fear is real, but so is the growth on the other side of it. You don't have to be brave to start—you become brave by starting."
The Current Chapter
Two years later, Taylor splits her time between Seattle and Santa Teresa, having restructured her design business to be fully location-independent. She and Lucas are still together, navigating a bi-continental relationship with surprising ease.
She's now an advanced surfer, comfortable in conditions that would have terrified her original self. She's completed her yoga teacher training and occasionally teaches classes at Zeneidas. And she's become a mentor figure for nervous solo travelers, often offering to meet them for coffee on their first day.
Your Solo Adventure
If you're considering solo travel but feel held back by fear, Taylor's story offers a blueprint. Start with a supportive environment like Zeneidas, where community is built into the experience. Choose activities that challenge you but have good instruction and support. Be open to connection, even when it feels scary.
The person you are in your comfort zone is just one version of yourself. Travel—especially solo travel—reveals other versions: braver, more spontaneous, more resilient. As Taylor discovered, sometimes you have to go alone to find out you're never really alone.
Key Takeaways
Solo travel isn't about rejecting connection—it's about choosing it consciously rather than defaulting to it out of fear. It's about proving to yourself that you can handle challenges, make decisions, and create joy independently. And often, paradoxically, it's in traveling alone that we find our deepest connections.
Zeneidas provided Taylor with the perfect environment for this journey: structured enough to feel safe, open enough to foster genuine connection, and beautiful enough to remind her daily that life is meant to be experienced fully, not just endured.
Your solo journey awaits. The only question is: are you ready to take that first step?