A Solo Traveler’s Guide to Not Losing Your Mind (or Your Soul) in Siargao
They say travel is the ultimate cure for a broken heart, but let’s be honest: your emotional baggage doesn’t just magically vanish at the check-in counter. In fact, if you’re over the weight limit for "sadness," you can’t just pay a 500-peso fee to make it go away.
If you’re currently carrying a heart that feels like a vintage vase—exquisitely crafted, expensive to maintain, but currently sporting several jagged cracks thanks to a "clumsy" ex or a series of life face-plants—you don’t need a crowded, soulless mega-resort. You need a sanctuary. You need salt water, cheap rum, and a place where "Cloud 9" isn't just a metaphor for happiness, but a world-class surf break that will literally and figuratively knock the wind out of you.
Buy Now: Solo in Siargao, Philippines: How Not to Fall in Love with a Local
Enter Siargao, Philippines. This teardrop-shaped island in the Philippine Sea is the ultimate workshop for your heart’s restoration project. Here is how to navigate the palm-fringed roads of General Luna while rebuilding the masterpiece that is you, with enough humor to keep you from crying into your mango shake.
1. Guarding the Jar: The "Anti-Overshare" Policy
When you’re solo traveling, there’s a bizarre psychological phenomenon where the smell of sunscreen and the sound of acoustic guitar music makes you want to confess your darkest secrets to a guy named "Jax" whom you met four minutes ago at a hostel bar.
Stop right there. Remember: your heart is like the last chocolate chip cookie in the jar. You wouldn't just give a bite to a random seagull on the beach, would you? (Actually, don't do that; those birds are terrifying). Being vulnerable is a beautiful, "main character" trait, but it doesn’t mean you should be an open book to everyone with a tan and a surfboard.
Buy Now: Love Again: A Modern Guide to Mending a Broken Heart
How to Build Your "Heart Fence" in Siargao:
The "Slow Reveal": You’re at Kermit for pizza (more on pizza later). The vibe is immaculate. Someone asks why you’re traveling alone. Instead of launching into a 45-minute PowerPoint presentation about your childhood trauma and your ex's commitment issues, try: "I’m on a self-guided research tour of the island’s best coconuts." Keep your deepest healing for your journal—it doesn't talk back or try to "fix" you with unsolicited advice about crystals.
The Digital Sunset: Your phone is the primary weapon used to crack your "vintage vase" heart. If you spend your entire sunset at the Catangnan Bridge checking to see if that person viewed your Instagram story, you aren't healing; you’re just masochistic. Put the phone in a dry bag. Throw the dry bag in a locker. Look at the water. It’s blue. It’s pretty. It doesn’t have an "Active Now" status.
The Power of "No": If a group of energetic 21-year-olds invites you to the "Jungle Party" to drink "Jungle Juice" (which is essentially liquid regret), and your soul is screaming for a quiet night listening to the geckos, say no. Guarding your heart means honoring your energy levels. You are the bouncer of your own club. If you aren't feeling the vibe, don't let the vibe in.
2. You Are the Whole Pizza (And the Extra Toppings, Too)
One of the most annoying side effects of a cracked heart is the sudden, intrusive thought that you are somehow "less than." You start feeling like a side salad—the thing people order when they're bored or trying to be healthy, but don't actually want.
In Siargao, we reject this nonsense. Repeat after me: “I am the whole pizza, not just a slice.” Think about a Siargao pizza—wood-fired, bubbling cheese, maybe some fresh basil. It’s complete. It doesn’t need a "partner" to be a pizza. If you add a side of garlic bread (a friend) or a cold beer (an adventure), that’s great, but the pizza was already a masterpiece on its own.
Building Your "Pizza Energy" on the Island:
The Empowerment Mantra: Create a personal mantra that sounds slightly ridiculous but feels amazing. Something like, "I am as resilient as a palm tree in a typhoon," or "My worth is higher than the price of a tourist-trap cocktail." Say it while you're driving your rented motorbike. No one can hear you over the engine anyway.
Mastering the "Habal-Habal" Hustle: Nothing boosts self-esteem like successfully navigating a semi-automatic motorbike through a muddy puddle without falling over. Every time you find your way to a secret beach without using Google Maps, you are earning "Life Points." You are proving to yourself that you are a capable human being who can survive—and thrive—without a co-pilot.
The "Look at Me Go" Journal: At the end of every day, write down one thing you did that made you feel like a badass. "Today, I paddled out past the break and didn't die." "Today, I ate an entire Buko Pie by myself and felt zero shame." These are the building blocks of a new, sturdier foundation.
3. Curating Your Island Tribe (Avoiding the "Vampires")
Siargao attracts a wild mix of people: world-class surfers, "spiritual" influencers who spend three hours taking one photo of a leaf, and genuine soul-seekers. When your heart is in its "delicate repair" phase, you have to be picky about who you let into your orbit.
If you hang out with people who complain about the humidity or spend their time gossiping about who's hooking up in the hostel dorm, your "vase" is going to stay chipped. You need people who fuel your fire, not people who pee on it.
Seek out the "Soul Lifters." These are the people who ask you about your favorite books, who want to wake up at 5:00 AM to see the sunrise at the Coconut View Deck, and who celebrate the fact that you’re brave enough to travel alone. If someone makes you feel like you have to "perform" or hide your cracks to be interesting, gently back away and go find a dog to pet. The island is full of very friendly dogs; they are excellent judges of character.
4. Find Your "Holy Sh*t, I'm Alive" Moment
The best way to prevent future cracks is to fill your life with so much passion that your heart becomes reinforced with "excitement-grade" steel. You need to engage in activities that make your adrenaline spike and your brain stop overthinking for five consecutive minutes.
The Siargao Vitality Menu:
Surfing (The Great Equalizer): Go to Jacking Horse or Cloud 9. Take a lesson. You will fall. You will get sand in places sand should never be. You will look like a flailing noodle. And it will be glorious. Why? Because you can’t worry about your ex-boyfriend when you’re trying to remember how to stand up while a wall of water is chasing you. It forces you into the present moment. It reminds you that you are a physical being, not just a vessel for thoughts.
The Magpupungko Rock Pools: Visit during low tide. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching the ocean recede to reveal these hidden, crystal-clear pools. It’s a metaphor, guys! (Get it?) Sometimes the "tide" of your life has to go out—stripping away the noise and the people who shouldn't be there—so that your inner beauty can be seen. Also, the cliff jumping there is a great way to scream out any lingering frustrations.
Sugba Lagoon: Take the boat ride through the mangroves. It’s quiet, it’s emerald green, and it looks like a movie set. Rent a paddleboard. If you fall in, just laugh. The water is warm, and the fish don't care about your "vintage vase" heart. They just want to know if you have snacks.
5. Kintsugi: Repairing with Gold (and Rum)
In Japanese culture, Kintsugi is the art of fixing broken pottery with gold lacquer. The philosophy is that the piece is more beautiful because it was broken. The scars are part of its history.
Your time in Siargao is your "gold lacquer." Every sunset you watch alone, every new friend you make, every wave you catch, and every plate of Sizzling Sisig you devour is filling those cracks in your heart with something precious.
You aren't trying to go back to the "old you." The old you didn't know how to ride a motorbike through a tropical rainstorm or how to negotiate with a tricycle driver. The new you is scarred, sure, but those scars are glowing. You are becoming a limited-edition version of yourself.
Conclusion: The Shine is Back, Baby
When you finally pack your bags—likely including a few extra shells, a slightly damp swimsuit, and a lot of sand—you’ll realize something miraculous. You didn't just "survive" a solo trip. You conducted a masterclass in heart maintenance.
You’re going home with a "vase" that is stronger, shinier, and much more interesting than the one you arrived with. You know your worth (Whole Pizza!), you have your boundaries (The Cookie Jar is Locked!), and you’ve remembered what it feels like to be truly, vibrantly alive.
Siargao didn't fix you. It just gave you the tools to realize you were never actually broken—you were just under construction.
Comments