I Hike Alone. But Maybe I Don't Have To

I tend to stay in my own little bubble. How do I break out if I want to?

While in Madrid, Spain for a month during my study abroad term, I spent a lot of time thinking about being alone. For context, I signed up for this adventure knowing that I would be going entirely by myself. As an introvert and someone who struggles to trust new people, I do not have very many friends or people apart of my tribe in general. My inner circle of close relationships mostly consists of my family and a couple of other people I’ve grown to know throughout the years. But for the most part, I spend the majority of my existence in my own little bubble. This is a huge reason why I typically hike, backpack, and go outside alone.

Like a lot of people who love nature, being outdoors is my “me” time. It is one of the only places I feel safe enough to be my authentic self, a person who lets their guard down and boldly puts one foot in front of the other with the type of confidence I could only dream of in off-trail life. I know this about myself. However, there was a moment in Spain where I was forced to really confront that parts of myself that deeply crave connection despite persistently abstaining from meeting new people at all costs for fear of rejection.

El Garbí 1,968ft

Toward the end of my study abroad, I spent a weekend in Valencia. By this point, I had gained my confidence back from the catastrophe that was hiking Peñalara and was ready for another mountain adventure. Maybe something not that intense though. That’s when I discovered a guided hiking trip up El Garbí, the highest point in the Natural Park of Sierra de Calderona on the outskirts of Valencia at 1,968. For 8 miles out and back, I essentially paid a local guide named Vincent to take me up the mountain and show me the area through the eyes of someone who lives there year-round.

Long story short, it was an incredible experience! Right away, Vincent and I hit it off because we hiked at a similar pace and were both very enthusiastic about the outdoors. He also had three dogs that followed us up the mountain as well. As a dog mom, this made my heart happy. Along the way, Vincent pointed out the different spices that grew wild beside the trail and wasted no time in educating me on the area’s rich history. We passed by ancient ruins, old churches, and a sacred water source toward the top that tasted amazing. I was just soaking up every last drop of the hike, I couldn’t stop smiling.

By the time we reached the summit, an expansive view of Valencia in the distance could be seen as well as speckles of the Mediterranean Sea shore. We took a short break on the rocks, eating bread with homemade olive oil and the sweetest Valencian liquor I will probably ever have in my life. In those moments, with the sun on my face and Vincent’s dogs panting around me, I was so happy to be there. Alive and present. Miles and miles and miles away from home. In a new environment, on a trail, in the wilderness, with someone I could talk to for hours. Just so happy.

The descent was quick and soon the whole experience was over. I retreated back to Valencia and walked back to the apartment I had rented for the weekend, alone. For the first time, I felt my heart ache instead of the instant relief I normally had after long social interactions with new people. I had a really fun time and honestly did not want it to have ended. It was odd to feel this way.

Even as the days passed and I flew back to America, I found my mind naturally wandering toward this experience. Clinging to the feeling of finally having had an extensive outdoor endeavor with a kindred spirit. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined.

I want more of these experiences where I have fun times in the backcountry with people I connect with and moments where I can easily be myself without being afraid of judgment. Fear is holding me back and I know why. Ever since graduating high school, I have had very few times where I felt safe enough to be authentic around others. The truth is, it took me well into my twenties to finally grasp the fact that I was bullied in high school.

High school Callie

When I think of bullying, I picture a scrawny kid getting shoved into a locker or people putting a “kick me” sign on someone’s back. I don’t think about the times I was manipulated into keeping secrets or when I was intentionally left out of social gatherings by my friend group only to find out about it later on Facebook. I don’t think of when lies were being spread about me or when I suddenly didn’t have anyone to sit with at lunch during senior year. The subtle passive-aggressive comments, being laughed at, made fun of, not respected, and never knowing who to trust. In therapy, I always brushed off these experiences and blamed it on my “crappy friends.” Realizing that these experiences are actually at the root of my social anxiety and are the reason why I am terrified to meet new people is mind-blowing.

And it wasn’t until the hike in Valencia that I recognized how much this fear was hurting me and holding me back from living a full life. For the first time, I now feel like I deserve to have meaningful connections instead of isolating myself all the time with my crochet projects and a glass of iced coffee (okay, I won’t totally stop, but I need to get out more).

I matter. Period.

I deserve to have people in my life that treat me well. I am not in high school anymore. I have grown so much since then. I am not the same person that I was.

If you’re reading this and feel like you’re in a similar boat, I see you.

We can heal.

With more therapy, outside time, and the courage to be vulnerable:

We can heal.

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As always, see you out on the trail!