Why I Planned a "Solorette" Before My Wedding

Planning a wedding feels a lot like taking a trip to a faraway destination. There is so much to learn and do and explore, and it can feel incredibly exciting. But, at the same time, any number of stressors and obstacles can appear in your path as you navigate this unfamiliar place. And, in both good ways and bad, you can feel completely consumed by the journey.

At least, that was my experience over the last year and a half leading up to my wedding. With so many decisions to make, details to lock in, and vendors to book, I began to feel like my (now) husband and I were spending every spare moment of mental and emotional energy on the wedding.

That's not to say it isn't a joyful process, because it certainly can be. I loved coming up with thoughtful details to infuse into our day, brainstorming with my mom and sister, and romanticizing the process with my partner.

I especially appreciated all of the occasions to gather friends and family leading up to our wedding day: we had a joyful engagement picnic in Los Angeles, my friends planned an incredible bachelorette weekend for me in Ojai, and some of my best guy friends even threw what they coined a "brolorette party" for me in New York City. I appreciated each and every one of these events for exactly what they were: a beautiful, celebratory send-off into a new chapter. And, to be clear, I'm aware how wildly privileged I am to experience all of these events, let alone throw a wedding.

While I loved all of these glorious weekends with friends, in the months leading up to the wedding, I also found myself craving some solitary self-reflection. I wanted to take time to think about who I am (and want to be) as an individual, before taking this next step with my partner. But, with all the spreadsheets and phone calls and parties tucked into the months before a wedding, there's not a lot of time to be, well, alone. As an extroverted introvert, this struck me as a major gap in our pre-wedding culture. After all, isn't it just as important to mindfully usher ourselves into this new chapter?

I certainly think so. And, with that in mind, I decided to plan a pre-wedding event that was just for me.

The Idea For My Solorette

Personally, I never feel more at peace or more like myself than when I'm traveling and exploring a new place — the first solo trip I took when I was 22 remains one of the most transformative experiences of my life. So when I began pondering what pre-wedding me time would look like, I immediately knew I wanted to plan a solo trip. A "solorette" party, if you will.

Initially, I had all kinds of ideas ranging from going off-the-grid in Joshua Tree for a long weekend to flying across the globe to catch a Taylor Swift concert. But as the months flew by, I continuously talked myself out of every one of these ideas. I felt guilty for even considering a frivolous excursion that would take time away from wedding planning. It was actually my partner who encouraged me to see it through — reminding me that traveling is part of who I am, and I deserved to have some time to myself. He would take care of things while I was gone.

So, with just a few weeks before the wedding, I spontaneously hopped on HotelTonight and booked a last-minute trip to Paso Robles. I'd heard great things about this central California town as of late, but I hadn't found time to make the drive up the coast. Then, when I learned one of my favorite wineries (Tank Garage Winery) had opened a tasting room in the downtown area, that solidified it as the perfect spot for my solorette getaway.

The Journey of My Solorette

I took the scenic route from Los Angeles to Paso Robles, stopping for fish tacos in Ventura and ogling the idyllic coastline of Santa Barbara. I checked into Paso Robles's charming Farmhouse boutique hotel, without any kind of itinerary or plan.

That first night, I found a local yoga studio hosting a sound-bath meditation, which I decided would be the perfect way to jumpstart my mindful trip. It was. As I laid down on my mat — singing bowls reverberating all around me — I felt like I was slowing down for the first time in almost a year. With all the wedding planning tasks (on top of work and daily life), both my mind and body were moving nonstop, and I'd been struck with the overwhelming feeling that I was running out of time. Not only running out of time to plan the details, but also running out of time to accomplish everything I'd hoped for before getting married. I hadn't realized how strongly I was holding on to that anxiety until that moment. In the stillness of that studio, I made a vow to myself: I would take the next two days to practice slowing down.

And, in many ways, I did just that. I took myself out to dinner that night, and journaled for hours instead of scrolling social media or checking tasks off my to-do list. The next morning, I went for a leisurely run through downtown (my favorite way to clear my head, and get the lay of the land in a new place). I got a day pass to the pool at Farmhouse's sister hotel, and spent hours reading and sipping on a cool pineapple-passion fruit drink and snacking on crispy potatoes.

Later that afternoon, I tried amazing wines at Tank and asked copious questions about grapes and blends and the evolution of Paso Robles. Their manager generously shared stories about the town along with some wedding advice, based on his own experience. Everything will fall into place, he told me. On the day, what really matters will shine through.

That night, I went to dinner and finished a novel I'd been nursing for months. I savored every bite of my meal and didn't look at my phone once. I chatted with my server, and observed my surroundings. I wasn't rushing to the next item on my itinerary — for the first time in months, there was no agenda.

I wandered through galleries and met an incredible artist who was creating a gorgeous painting of white flowers. I learned she'd be celebrating her 80th birthday on the same day as my wedding. She was so vibrant and youthful, and when I asked her how she could possibly be turning 80, she simply held up her paintbrush and gestured to her canvas. "It's this," she told me. "I do what I love. This keeps me happy, this keeps me young."

Before I left the next day, I brought my journal to breakfast and took the time to write it all down. Everything I saw, everything I experienced.

I sent my partner a text: "We should plan little weekend trips like this more often, together."

The Takeaways From My Solorette

Much like an amazing vacation, the wedding itself is over in a blink of an eye, but there can be so much beauty and joy in the journey if you take the time to look for it. So, if I have one piece of advice, it's this: slow down wherever and whenever you can.

And — this part is crucial — you can't lose sight of who you are or why you're throwing a wedding in the process. You will be bombarded by countless opinions and societal pressure and social media "must haves," but at the end of the day, this occasion is about you and your partner. It's about celebrating your love, and committing to be supportive teammates. And, at least in my experience, taking some time to pause can really put all of that back into perspective.

So, if it's possible (and, again, I'm very aware of my own privilege in doing so): throw yourself that solorette party! Maybe it's a full-on trip, a nice solo dinner, or just an hour each week that's solely for you. Personally, I was so grateful to have this time, even though it was just a couple of days, to take a breath and reflect.

Kristine Thomason is a lifestyle writer and editor based in Southern California. Previously, she was the health and fitness director at mindbodygreen, and the fitness and wellness editor at Women's Health. Kristine's work has also appeared in PS, Travel + Leisure, Men's Health, Health, and Refinery29, among others.