Keychains and Concrete: A Momma Bear’s First Solo Flight

Solo in the City: Starry Nights, Broadway Lights, and Breaking the Trauma Bond

This week, I did something completely new: I traveled for a business trip to New York City.

I’ve never been to NYC before, but more importantly, I have never left my kids like this. To understand the sheer panic that concept brings me, you have to know a piece of my history: the last time I left my oldest daughter for an extended period, a massive crisis happened with the person who was supposed to be watching her. (I’ll dive into that specific chapter in a later post). Since that day, I became the hyper-vigilant protector. I find it very hard to trust anyone to watch my children, and even semi see the potential what if this happens at the thought of it.

This time was different. They were home with their dad, a man I trust completely. But trauma doesn't care about logic. For three days leading up to the flight, my entire body broke out in a nervous, psychosomatic itch. My brain knew they were safe, but my body was screaming that I was abandoning my post.

But I got on the plane anyway. And not only did I make an impact at work, but I did something I haven’t done in over two decades: I spent time completely alone.

The 45-Minute Masterpiece

In my normal day-to-day life, I can’t even use the restroom without a toddler audience. But in Manhattan, I was an independent agent. I explored Times Square, saw the Vessel, ate at the famous Ellen's Stardust Diner, and climbed the Empire State Building.

As an art junkie, my absolute top highlight was the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). I only had a tight 45-minute window after my meetings wrapped before they closed, but I sprinted through those galleries. Standing in front of Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night—a piece I had only ever seen in the pages of college textbooks before my life was derailed—was abosultely amazing. I browsed through Picassos, O’Keeffe’s, and Degas’, soaking in every single brushstroke. I was in absolute art junkie heaven, but was kicked out when they closed.

Finding the Hype at 1,000 Feet

I’ll admit, before this trip and even after the first day, I didn’t really get the hype of New York City. It felt loud, crowded, and overwhelming. But an hour before closing, I went to the top of the Empire State Building. The crowds had thinned out, the city was lit up like a galaxy below me, and for the first time, I got it. It was breathtaking.

The next day I was even able to wait in the TKTS line in Times Square and scored discounted tickets to see Moulin Rouge! on Broadway. The team was going to a Yankees game, but since I dont watch sports I found an alternative. The set design was spectacular, the music was electric, and while I wished I had someone there to share the moment with, there was something incredibly powerful about buying a ticket for one and entertaining myself. I will admit I kept thinking about how much my husband and my 5 year old would love this experience. I missed them while enjoying the show.

The Tether

Of course, you can take the mom out of the house, but you can’t take the mom out of the woman. I still ran my operations from afar. I called every morning and night. I sent photos to my husband to show the little boys, texted my oldest son about his school day, and hit a tourist shop to buy keychain souvenirs for the kids.

When the plane landed back home, I was flooded with relief. I missed my chaotic routine, my loud house, and my safe space. The concrete jungle is a fun place to visit, but I am a suburban mom through and through.

Going to NYC wasn't just a business trip for my career; it was a boundary line drawn against my past. It was proof that the shadows don't dictate where I can go anymore.

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Closing Thought: Sometimes, healing looks like a massive life change, and sometimes it looks like standing alone on a street corner in Manhattan, realizing that the world didn't fall apart just because you stepped away for a moment.

Have you ever had to take a "leap of faith" that triggered a physical anxiety response? How did it feel when you finally made it to the other side of that fear? Let’s talk about reclaiming our independence in the comments.