Growing up, I never found Disney vacations to be a divisive topic. What's not to like? You can soak up the sun while admiring life-size animated characters, and round out the day with roller coasters and delicious snacks. But when you're approaching 30, people start to have opinions about it. “Again?” is the most common response I get when telling friends about my upcoming trip around Mickey. "Why?" was a close runner-up.
I often have a hard time coming up with a watertight rebuttal to these questions. “Because I love it” never seems to be enough. Eyebrows were raised; guffaws were stifled; vague words of pretended understanding were offered as I muttered something about escape and "the happiest place on earth." It wasn’t until a recent work trip took me solo to Anaheim that I began to put the pieces together.
Setting off into the foggy OC morning with Minnie’s ears, my childish excitement was mixed with a hint of anxiety. I had never been to California before, and I agonized over one detail: The first time I traveled to Walt's original dream land, I was completely alone. After the first sight of the castle, who would accept my wild smile? Who’s going to stop the boredom of a two-hour line to get to Space Mountain? Crucially, who can justify my third dole whip of the day?
Before this, every trip I took to the parks was spent with family and loved ones who made these vacations a reality. It seems inappropriate, even vulgar, to enjoy magic unless shared with others. Am I being too dramatic? Absolutely! But you’re not going to make the same mistakes as your first visit to Disneyland, and there’s going to be some hesitancy to break the tradition of these experiences when they mean so much to the people closest to you and my dearest. Even though I'm a lifelong Disney fan, I was worried when I left the hotel.
For most visitors to Disneyland, off-site accommodation means just walking a short distance or taking a shuttle before reaching the gate. I completed the journey on foot in 15 minutes, gathering at the crosswalk with children, parents, couples and friends. Their closeness made me smile and pick up my phone: “I wish you were here!” I wrote to various group chats, attaching selfies. If I focus hard enough, I feel like the recipient is right next to me. Before I knew it, I was scanning my ticket in the shadow of the Disneyland Railroad.
Walking into any Disney park will give you an eerily familiar feeling. City Hall, Fire Station, and No matter which side of the world you vacation on, malls are configured slightly differently. The air is filled with echoes of 1940s swing music and the buttery scent of popcorn; close your eyes and you could be at any of the Rat's six resorts. Somewhere in the refreshment corner, as I turned towards the crowd of people taking photos with the castle, I realized that what I had been worrying about was going on a family holiday without my family by my side. But this isn’t a family vacation – and to make the most of it, I need to stop thinking of it as a family vacation.
Immerse yourself in the fantasy of it all, which will take on different forms during this trip. As an introvert, I wouldn't have danced with Donald during the parade (although I did take a selfie with Peter Pan). Instead, I thought about the quiet things I love about Disney—the details, the atmosphere, the hidden gems. I walked around the park and took it all in. The marching band outside the Golden Horseshoe and the jazz septet soundtrack guests around New Orleans Square kept me in my tracks, song after song. A slow cruise along the Storybook Land Canal provides visitors with a great escape from the crowds.
I listened to my favorite podcast at Disney California Adventure and became friends with a group of people behind me during a particularly tedious time waiting to ride Guardians of the Galaxy: Mission: Breakout. I also spend a lot of time browsing the Downtown Disney merchandise store, revisiting it multiple times a day to sort through items for future purchases. And it was during this trip that I became a full-fledged pin merchant, allowing myself to tour each park guided by colorful enamel boards, exchanging my findings with guests and actors. There was no activity that left me feeling alone or succumbing to the slightest feeling of discomfort.
It doesn't matter how many times I go to Disney; every trip, without exception, is defined by something new. My relationship began in 1998 and 2004 was my first holiday with friends. I will remember 2008 as my most awkward teenage years and 2020 as the time I flew from the other side of the world to surprise my family. But 2022 will be unique because it taught me how to enjoy my own company. I hope this solo trip is the first of many.
