California on the road: to dispel uncertainties and prejudices
Kilometers of us
THREE WOMEN, A VAN AND A ROAD TRIP IN AMERICA
If it were a chapter of Aldo, Giovanni and Giacomo in the feminine it would start exactly like this but no, no script. To tell the truth this story didn't even start this way. It was supposed to be a quiet and relaxing vacation, those holidays you dream about all year round: tropical beaches, exotic cocktails and nothing but the sound of the waves. But then the illumination came: no resort, no laziness.
An adventure was needed.
Classmates yesterday, long-time friends today, we embark on this adventure a bit like this… by chance, following instinct more than a real plan. Each with her own story, starting from a different corner of the world, we
we find ourselves on the other side, without even making big announcements or alluding to useless expectations, ready for an experience that no one had really imagined.
Let's start from San Francisco. Actually, no, let's start from prejudices. Of course, what do you want to start without the classics:
“Only girls? Are you sure?”
“That far away? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”
“And the boyfriend? Are you leaving him alone?”
At the beginning of the trip, I must admit, I was a little nervous. Not so much for the distant destination or the idea of moving to such a big country, but for all those comments that came up regarding the fact that we, women, were traveling alone. A series of dispassionate and unsolicited questions, always accompanied by that look mixed between concern and skepticism. As if our independence was something to be questioned, as if without a male figure at our side we were automatically more vulnerable. And then, let's face it, when you leave someone at home, that subtle sense of guilt arrives punctually, as if giving yourself time just for yourself was selfish. At a certain point, however, those thoughts stopped tormenting me: because yes, I was tired, disheveled, without makeup, without parents or male figures to support me, but with that sparkle in my eyes that only freedom can give you. And then oh, I was too happy to let it influence me!
From a gloomy day in San Francisco, we pick up our vehicle and head down to the warm heat of Baja California. Let's go, let's really go. Were we ready to live together for 12 days in a van? Absolutely not. Did we improvise the 90% of times? Absolutely yes. The first feeling I had can be described as a mix between freedom and panic. There was no precise program or an orderly schedule to follow... they couldn't even agree on what to buy at the supermarket, let alone. But that's the beauty of it, right? Being the master of your time, deciding when and where to go, whether to stop for a photo or a coffee; having no obligations, no timetable to respect, but only the road that unfolds in front of you. Sure, there was some indecision and some discussion about the routes, but in the end every little uncertainty became part of the fun. We crossed California, Utah, Nevada and Arizona, touching the frenzy of Hollywood and the glitter of Las Vegas and then losing ourselves in the boundless scenery of the natural parks.
Driving in the United States is something that can't be described in words, but I'll try anyway. Imagine a straight road that seems to go on forever, kissed by a fiery sun that sets behind golden hills, and surrounded by landscapes so surreal that it seems to be on a postcard. Now, stop! Don't let your imagination run wild, because it hasn't always been like this. I want
say, taking a road trip through the American canyons, together with friends, in the name of adventure and freedom, is wonderful yes, but after hours of living together in a van, only with women and decisions to make… I'll leave you to imagine! However, when everything calmed down and night fell upon us, that mini camper became a little house under the stars. And there, in the silence, we talked, we talked about everything: the past, the present, the dreams that each of us kept hidden in the drawer. There was something magical in those chats. It was as if, far away from everything, we finally had the courage to be completely ourselves. Maybe it was tiredness, maybe the infinite sky above us, or maybe simply the fact that, in that moment, we didn't have to prove anything to anyone. Just live, laugh and enjoy the freedom that fortunately we enjoy. And the best part? Knowing that, once we returned home, that feeling of strength and independence would not abandon us.
One thing I won't easily forget? Surprisingly, it wasn't the looks or glances of the men, who maybe seeing three girls alone might have thought who knows what; but the looks, the comments and the smiles of the women we met along the journey. They watched us live our lives as free travelers with a sort of admiration, almost as if we were a small traveling show. I like to think that, seeing us so proud and proud of our freedom, they were reflecting on how special what we were experiencing was. Maybe, in their time, an adventure like that wasn't even conceivable and this made us even luckier in their eyes.
In the end, this trip wasn't just a road trip in California. It was an experience that made us grow, laugh, discuss and reflect. Being on the other side of the world, just the three of us, with no one to lean on, made us feel incredibly strong. There was no one to save us and maybe that was the point: we didn't need saving. We had each other, and that was enough.
There is one thought that struck me in a particular way during this journey: the awareness that we women do not always need someone by our side to feel safe, supported or guided. Despite everything, there we were, in an unknown place, far from home, yet so at peace, so sure of ourselves. It was not the lack of danger that made us feel safe, but the fact that we were proving to ourselves that we could face it. We felt independent, yes, but also connected to each other in a special way. It was not just about traveling alone, but about living an adventure that was only ours, made of decisions made together, shared moments and small milestones that, at times, seemed gigantic.
And then, there was another awareness, perhaps this more personal one. Traveling without your partner does not mean cutting them out of your life. It simply means carving out a space for yourself to rediscover who you are, to understand that your identity is not defined by your role in a couple, but by who you are as a person. We often forget that we are much more than a title – girlfriend, wife, mother, etc. We are women capable of dreaming, taking risks, facing the world with an unshakeable awareness, even when things don't go as planned.
I think this trip has taught us a valuable lesson: that we shouldn't be afraid to take our space. We shouldn't wait for anyone's permission to live new adventures, to put ourselves out there and see what we're capable of. Being independent doesn't mean not loving or not wanting to share your life with someone else. It simply means loving ourselves enough to remember that we can (also) count on our own strengths, always.
Article and photos by Giorgia Forte
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