OK-so I was going to Florence, Italy–alone.  I would be spending my 50th birthday there–alone.  It should be a day to spend with friends and loved ones, however I was going to be–alone.

But I was going to FLORENCE, ITALY!!!  ALONE!!!  I was going to have the freedom to explore. to wander, to dream, to soak in my beloved Renaissance Art and never having to worry about how long I lingered.  Oh-and of course there was going to be the food and the wine.  I wasn’t going to have to worry about choosing a restaurant that someone did not like or worrying about anyone being bored with a museum or church with it’s many chapels.  I was going to be able to wander the streets and stop wherever I wished and stay as long as I desired.

I was digging the idea more and more. So-now where to stay?  After 20 years of being stuck in hotels for most of my corporate life, I had found that hotels did not make me feel as though I was “on vacation”.  Some small boutique hotels in Europe had overcome my hotel phobia, but those stays had been when I was adventuring with fellow traveling buddies.  Staying alone in a hotel for this trip was simply not an option.

A few of my dearest friends and I had discovered, early on in our traveling years, that renting apartments was a wonderful alternative to hotels.  It was a bit risky (in a fun way), since the usual  arrangement was to meet a foreign stranger on the street to exchange money for keys.

An apartment in Florence was my next “no going back” decision.

I have always said that I feel blessed that the travel gods seem to smile upon me, and I had no reason not to have faith in them once again.

It was summer of 2012 and my 50th birthday was approaching in November.  My sister and I had been planning for a few years to return to Paris to celebrate my milestone birthday together, but I was feeling so confused and lost without my job. I just did not know what I wanted to do. 

My sister and I would talk on the phone and she would say,”We should book Paris soon, have you looked into anything?”. I would reply, “Yeah, I will get on it.”

But I didn’t. Finally my sis asked me “You are just not into this, are you?” I replied “No, I am not. I am sorry. I do not know why.” For some reason I just did not feel that was where I was meant to be for that occasion. My sister was so understanding and just told me to find what I needed to do.

I was doing quite a bit  (too much, actually) of networking at the time, and people would often ask me, “What is your passion?”. I would look at them doe-eyed and think to myself “my passion,???”. I had lost it and had no idea what it was.

So, where was I going to go and what was I going to do for my 50th?–and what the heck was “my passion?” Would finding the answer to any or both of those questions help me out of that strange, lost place?

I realized that the  answer to my “what is my passion” question had to come to me in its’ own time-no forcing it.  However, the “where to go and what to do” question was something that I could tackle-even in my confused state of mind.

I do not have the kind of life that brings big surprise birthday parties, and here I found myself not even wanting to travel with my only sister for my birthday. So that seemed to leave traveling alone. That is the decision I came to. I made that decision in the way that I make most bigger decisions in my life. There is a moment of crystal clarity, kind of like a spark, and I seem to almost instantly know what I am going to do. There are doubts and fears afterward, but no going back. I know after that crystal clear moment what I will do.

So that matter was settled. I was going to travel somewhere alone for my 50th. Next question was where in the world was I going to go?

I will not dwell too much on the reasons that brought me to find myself alone in Florence on my 50th birthday.

That part of my story is not the best part. However, I feel that I must share a bit of it as an explanation. After enjoying over 26 years of success in sales, sales management and sales training in corporate America, my company sold out to a private equity firm. I was given a choice between very early retirement or keeping my secure job and losing my retirement benefits (healthcare being the primary concern). I was given five days to decide.

Obviously I took the retirement option–only after meeting with an employment law attorney and consulting with many friends and loved ones.

If I had been six months older to the day, I could have kept my great job AND enjoyed all of my retirement benefits, including retiring on my own terms. But I was six months too young to the day, and that is why I wound up alone in Florence for my 50th.

The story will continue and it gets much better!