Phew, I thought. Someone can be a pretty, fun, smart and interesting traveler in her thirties. This came as an incredible relief, because like most women past 25, I can feel my thirties approaching like the inevitable onslaught of winter. No matter how much I know that age is just a number, 40 is the new 30, 30 is the new 20, people can be “young at heart” and so on, I still get anxious about the future just like (practically) everybody else.

These ordinary fears are further complicated for the traveler.

For most people, social norms dictate that long-term travel is for the young post-college crowd. It’s for them to have a bit of “adventure” before settling down and leading a normal life. Take the following examples, for instance:

Upon hearing that I have been living and traveling in Central America the past eight months, most people give me the following response: “That’s great, you’ve got to do that while you’re young.”

Uhhh… but what if I want to do it again when I’m 55?

Or, take my mom, for example. She once asked me: “sure, it’s fine floating around while you’re 26, but do you really want to be doing the same thing when you’re 32?”

Uhhh… sorta.

And I’ve even been guilty of such thoughts myself, as hypocritical as they are. I mean, who hasn’t rolled their eyes at the 42 year old who’s hitting on the 19 year old backpackers in some crowded hostel dorm?

So, the first question is: is there an age after which long-term travel or the nomadic lifestyle is inappropriate?

My answer: no. (Did you expect me to answer any other way?) People should live the way they want, as long as they aren’t impeding on others’ lives or shirking their responsibilities (supporting children, for instance.)

No, because being nomadic is in many ways a lifestyle choice. And while I’m a slower nomad – I tend to do the longer-term expat thing more than actual backpacking – this is a lifestyle I can’t see myself giving up for quite some time.

Sure, my traveling style might have changed a bit, and will probably continue to change as I get older. I used to always stay in dorms, no matter what. Now, I often cough up the 5 bucks for a private room – 5 bucks I would have spent on beer to make the hostel dorm bearable. As my father has, as I grow older I might come to want more comfort as I travel. But I’ll still be the same.

So my answer, then, is no. But truth be told, most people’s answer would be yes. Scour the internet a bit, and you’ll find debates on whether it’s “sad” to travel solo or teach English abroad after 30. Many people, it seems, are offended at those who do not settle down in the traditional way.

Second question, then: how to deal with the people who think long-term travel is only for the very young?

I don’t have an answer to this. At least for me, it’s not so easy to say “fuck ‘em.” I like my family and friends. Many get me, but some don’t. But I’m still not willing to forget about them.

This article struck a chord with me.

Many people assume that I am an extrovert. I am loud and funny, and make friends very easily. In some ways, I certainly have extroverted tendencies.

But there’s a bit of a loner half-heartedly hidden in this sociable person, and in many ways I am an introvert, especially while traveling.

Today was a glorious day. I arrived in Morelia, a town I had a strong hunch I would love. I walked around town, just bursting with joy that I had found a place so lovely and filled with great energy. I got a snack, and sat down to eat and watch young Mexican hippies play djembes and awkwardly attempt to dance the African way. I stared at the Cathedral, marveling at the undertones of pink in its stone walls. I sat down for some quesadillas in a little roadside stand. I knew that I already loved this place.

I must have spoken at most 20 words to anyone all day.

The problem is, I’m afraid I can only really “feel” a place when I’m by myself. The feeling of being alone in a strange place – that delicious sense of loneliness mixed with wonder – is the way I get to know somewhere.

When I’m with other travelers, I’m not as touched by my surroundings.

Case in point: last week I went traveling with two great guys I met in my CELTA course. These friends make me laugh a lot, and I’m looking forward to hanging out with them again in the future. We had a good time, and my camera is filled with silly photos of memorable moments. It was a good week.

Truth be told, though, that after five days of traveling with these buddies, I was ready for time by myself. I had been to Queretaro with them, but yet I didn’t feel like I had gotten to know the place at all. Selfishly, I remembered why I usually travel alone: it’s so much easier to make decisions only for yourself.

I need to find a balance between my extroversion and introversion. I need to learn to travel better with other people, especially since I am getting to the point of my life where finding a partner would be nice, and he sure as hell better want to travel with me. I need to know how to get to know a place while having fun with people by my side. But I can’t – and I won’t – give up completely my strong desire to be alonen some times, and create memories that are entirely private.