This summer, I embarked on my first solo long-distance drive from Michigan to New York. Why? I’ll get to that a little later. Let me tell you about the experience. I left home early in the morning, in the dark but deliciously cool hours before sunrise, to make as much progress before the heat of the day was the worst. Unfortunately, the trip coincided with a multi-day heatwave across the Midwest and East Coast; there was no escape. Powered by delirious energy, my favorite podcast, a ‘90s R&B playlist and a couple of Dunkalattes, I sailed through Michigan, Indiana and Ohio.
Then, I got to Pennsylvania. If it’s possible to have one-sided beef with a territory, it’s me vs. Pennsylvania. Besides being an unbearably long state, road repairs meant detours and frequent stop-and-go traffic as travelers were directed from multilane roads to narrow one-lane passages. The majority of my journey was spent crawling along in that state. Once I saw the signs for New Jersey, hope began to rise. I was so close to home! Then I encountered the Holland Tunnel. With gas dwindling, and bumper-to-bumper traffic as cars waited to merge, it was a mess. I battled through traffic there and in lower Manhattan before I finally reached my destination. The journey took a whopping 17 hours, just a smidge off the 12-hour projection from Google Maps.
I’ve recounted my trip, in varying amounts of detail and drama, quite a few times since then. Inevitably, once I get to the end of retelling my odyssey, the listener asks: “Why’d you do that? And by yourself?!” Well, because I could! It was also true that I hadn’t found anyone who was making a trip back East at that time. I had done it before, when first moving to Michigan, and it was a breeze. On reflection, however, I realized it was a smooth journey because I wasn’t alone. I had a friend riding with me as co-pilot. We took turns at the wheel, made time to rest and eat and completed the trip from New York to Michigan in 11 hours. I remember being pleasantly surprised by how easy it seemed.
But now, I humbly acknowledge that my confidence in 2025 was based on my skewed recollection of the trip two years prior. As I wrote in my journal a few days after my drive this summer: “Driving solo is rough. It’s better with company. Life is better with company!” Terribly cliché, yes, but also accurate. And I was struck by how obvious it was, but how oblivious I’ve been. That trip, like some of the personal and professional adjustments I’ve navigated the past few years, might have been better had I shared with others instead of covering in the false pride that “I’ve got this.” And since that trip, I’ve been thinking about how much of life I tend to go it alone.
When we’re young, doing something by ourselves is a great accomplishment. It’s all we want to do as we establish our independence. Developing autonomy and self-efficacy is crucial. But asking for help or seeking community doesn’t negate those qualities or signal weakness. I think that’s an unrealistic mindset. Yes, there are things only you can do. You go to job interviews on your own. But oftentimes, your relationships are what led you to that first call or sit-down. Perhaps colleagues spoke your name in rooms you hadn’t entered yet, or mentors reviewed your resume, or conversations with your acquaintances helped you narrow down your goals and yielded referrals. You run those laps or do the reps to improve your health. But many people tend to do better when they work out with a partner or take an exercise class because there’s community and accountability. Though there are many things we can do on our own, life can be better, not necessarily easier, when you’re not doing it alone.
When my brother passed away several months ago, I didn’t disclose it to others at first. Besides my immediate family and close friends, it felt odd to bring it up in conversation. I didn’t want to bring a damper on interactions. But about a week later, feeling particularly vulnerable during a prayer meeting, I shared. I was taken aback by the response: the prayers, the words of comfort and the inquiries about me and my family. It was a small step into the waters of vulnerability, learning that I didn’t have to do life alone, especially as it relates to grief. It hit me weeks later as I stood in the lobby of the funeral home before my brother’s memorial. To my shock, my two best friends from high school walked in, bearing flowers and hugs. I hadn’t told them about the service because I didn’t want to inconvenience them with a midweek drive to Brooklyn through rush hour traffic and congestion pricing. But they came anyway because they knew grief isn’t a burden to be borne in isolation. Life is not meant to be done alone.
I’ll be honest: This epiphany hasn’t completely revolutionized my approach to life. It’s still a habit I’m working to unlearn. Asking for help or input, and making time to cultivate community, takes vulnerability and effort. But truthfully, I’ve never been disappointed when I do.
Whenever I notice that I’m returning to my pattern of “I can do it myself,” I try to remember what I vowed while idling in traffic on a Pennsylvania country road on a humid June afternoon: I’m not doing this ever again! Another driver or passenger on that trip might not have cooled the heatwave or shortened the drive (seriously, Pennsylvania, why?!). But having someone else to commiserate with or to help shoulder driving certainly would’ve helped. So whether it’s navigating life’s journeys or another long-distance road trip, I won’t default to solo mode. Because life is better with company.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.