I landed in Kraków expecting some kind of cinematic winter: snow-dusted squares, hot pierogi, a version of myself that felt lighter. Instead, I spent most evenings in a hostel kitchen, watching condensation bead on the window while my fingers went numb from the draft. The city was beautiful, but I was tired—of the cold, of small talk, of pretending every day was an adventure. I kept waiting for the moment travel would fix me, but all I got was a photo of the Main Square at dusk I never posted, because I looked as lost as I felt. Travel didn’t save me. It just made me honest about what I needed to come home to. #Travel #SoloTravelTruth #PostTripReality