One of the hardest things I’ve had to learn on the road has been setting boundaries. At first, I thought it was about saying no to plans or carving out time for myself. But I’ve come to realize that setting boundaries goes much deeper, especially when you're a solo traveler constantly meeting new people, being exposed to new cultures, and navigating your own growth in real time.
Over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern. While I’ve made incredible connections through my travels, there have also been moments when I felt drained, confused, or even betrayed after certain friendships or collaborations. When I took a closer look, I realized many of those moments had something in common: a lack of boundaries, both within myself and in the spaces I was in.
The Childhood Roots of Boundary Confusion
Growing up, I often played the role of caretaker in my family. As the youngest, I witnessed a lot of unspoken emotional dynamics. I absorbed the belief that love was earned through service, loyalty, and keeping the peace. If someone was hurting, it became my responsibility to fix it. If there was chaos, I was the one trying to restore harmony.
When you’re taught that your worth is tied to how useful or agreeable you are, it can become incredibly difficult to assert your needs later in life. Instead, you adapt by reading the room, putting yourself last, or making excuses for behavior that crosses the line.
This early programming can affect the way your nervous system responds to social situations. When your default state is “fawn,” a trauma response where you prioritize others’ comfort to stay safe, you might find it difficult to notice when your own boundaries are being crossed until much later. Research shows that chronic activation of this response can lead to long-term issues with self-trust and emotional regulation¹.
The Travel Lens: When Patterns Repeat Themselves
When I started solo traveling, I thought I had left all of that behind. But the truth is, your patterns don’t stay at home. They come with you.
In Puerto Vallarta, I connected with a few people who initially seemed aligned, but later I felt overwhelmed by frequent venting and unpredictability. At first, I told myself I was being too sensitive. But over time, I noticed that I often left these interactions feeling anxious and emotionally depleted. When another person distanced herself after a group hangout, I realized I was trying to hold on to people who may not have wanted the same depth of connection that I did.
After doing more work with my therapist on boundaries I ended up traveling to Buenos Aires. In the first few weeks I was there I met someone at a meetup dinner that made my feel like something was off. Though friendly at first, our conversations left me feeling subtly judged. I distanced myself but because the nomadic community is quite small, I later heard others share stories of her starting fights in restaurants or stealing from other traveleres. I realized I wasn’t imagining things. I had picked up on the dissonance early, and was so thankful to my intuition.
These moments helped me recognize a common thread. I was often giving people the benefit of the doubt before giving myself the benefit of discernment. Not because I lacked intuition, but because I was used to overriding it in favor of connection. My lesson was to listen to listen to how I was feeling after meeting these connections and listen to my intuition.
Boundary Lessons from the Brain
Neuroscience tells us that humans are wired for connection, but also for safety. When we enter new environments, our brains rely on both past memories and current sensory input to assess whether we’re safe. This system, called neuroception, operates below our conscious awareness².
If you grew up in a household where emotional unpredictability was common, your brain may have become wired to seek connection at any cost. This means your neuroception might register certain red flags as “familiar,” not dangerous. Which explains why we can find ourselves repeating the same patterns in different places until we bring them to light.
The good news? Our brains are also capable of change. Through neuroplasticity, we can rewire our responses by learning to pause, check in with ourselves, and make different choices³.
How I’m Learning to Set Boundaries as a Solo Traveler
Here are a few truths I’ve picked up along the way:
Pay attention to your body. If you feel drained or uneasy after hanging out with someone, don’t ignore that. Your nervous system is trying to tell you something.
Just because someone is part of the “nomad community” doesn’t mean they’re aligned with your values. You’re allowed to say no to invitations, even if it means missing out on a social event.
You don’t owe access to everyone. Whether it's business, friendship, or romantic energy, reciprocity and respect matter. When someone pressures, manipulates, or overrides your consent, that’s a sign, not a challenge to try harder.
It’s not mean to have boundaries. One of the most liberating realizations I’ve had is that boundaries are not punishments. They’re guideposts for how I want to live and connect.
You can still wish people well from afar. Letting go doesn’t have to mean resentment. Some people aren’t meant to be in your life long-term, and that’s okay.
What I Want You to Know
If you’ve found yourself in uncomfortable or confusing situations while traveling, you’re not alone. It’s easy to romanticize the idea of meeting “your people” everywhere you go. But real connection takes time, trust, and often, the willingness to walk away when something doesn’t feel right.
The more I travel, the more I understand that boundaries are not a sign of disconnection. They’re what allow deeper, safer, and more authentic connections to happen.
And most of all, they allow me to stay in integrity with myself, no matter where in the world I am.
Footnotes
Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.
Porges, S. W. (2004). Neuroception: A subconscious system for detecting threats and safety. Zero to Three.
Siegel, D. J. (2012). The Developing Mind: How Relationships and the Brain Interact to Shape Who We Are.
