It was Navratri week, and friends kept inviting us over for Kanjak Puja and to see their Golu dolls. solo travel for mums
“Sorry,” I kept saying. “I’m going away to New Zealand.”
“Oh, a work trip?”
“No. Just a holiday. By myself.” solo travel for mums
A little pause. Then: “What! That’s so cool!”
I had travelled alone before, but only ever for work. A trip just for me, for fun, was unimaginable.
Why not?
For many years, I lived in two boxes. At home, I was Mum. At work, I was a working woman. What I didn’t make room for was me: the things I loved as a girl, the hobbies I let slide, the dreams I put on a shelf. Travel was one of those dreams.
When my husband returned from a work trip once, I said, “It’s so cool you get to travel. Maybe my next job should involve travel.”
“Why do you need a job for that?” he said. “Just go on a trip, wherever you like!”
“What about the girls?” solo travel for mums
“What about them? I’ll be here, your parents are here, we’ll manage.”
It was such a simple idea, and it had genuinely never occurred to me.
Even then I hesitated. The cost and childcare were sorted. What held me back was a quieter voice many women will recognise. Many of us grew up believing a mother puts everyone else first, and for those of us who migrated, that belief can feel heavier still. Lunch with a friend or a shopping trip feels allowed. A week to ourselves in a new country is almost unthinkable.
Nobody was stopping me. The only thing missing was my own permission.
One evening I stopped asking whether I should go, and asked whether I wanted to. The answer was yes. So I booked my tickets.
When I told my mum, she smiled and said her generation never had these choices, and she was glad I was using mine.
Just me and the South Island solo travel for mums
The girls stayed home with their Papa and grandparents, making tacos and pizza and having a wonderful time.
I had a wonderful time too.
For the first time, I rented a car by myself and drove around the South Island with my favourite songs for company.
Yet, with no one else to sort things out, I found myself planning for what could go wrong. It was a muscle I hadn’t used in years, and every small problem I handled made me more confident.
I rode the gondola alone, which was a bit scarier than I like to admit. I went to the cinema by myself and made new friends. I ate whatever I felt like, without the usual mental gymnastics of who will eat what.
When I came home, the girls were overjoyed to see me, and not once did they ask why I had left. They had been busy with their own adventures. And I came back calmer, happier and more energised.
The permission is yours to give
When I told other mums about the trip, the reaction was almost always the same: “I wish I had done that.” So many of us want this, and we dismiss the thought too quickly.
So to every mum reading this: time for yourself is not a luxury, and it is not selfish. It doesn’t have to be overseas. One night somewhere new or a weekend with an old friend counts. The point is giving yourself space to be a person, not only a role.
From a trip to a book
My daughters wanted to hear everything about my trip, and as I told them, I realised what I wanted them to grow up knowing: mums are whole people.
So I wrote it down. Mama’s Adventures in Queenstown is a picture book based on my trip. For children, it makes Mum going on an adventure feel normal. For mums and dads who keep saying “maybe one day”, it’s a gentle nudge.
Deepti Kulkarni lives in Sydney with her husband and two daughters. Mama’s Adventures in Queenstown is coming in November 2026, available on Amazon Australia.
READ ALSO: Travel diary of a clueless gori: Part 2 – Varanasi and Agra
