I keep my life pretty manageable.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway, as a Type-A, Cancer woman (lol). I do the trips that make sense for my life and lifestyle: Fly down to Atlanta for the weekend to see my bestie and my godbabies, take a trip to the Caribbean for a friend’s bachelorette or birthday party every so often, maybe even drive to the Grand Canyon when I’m visiting Las Vegas to compete in HYROX, if I’m feeling adventurous. I know where to stay, where to eat, and what to pack because I would have searched on TikTok for all the best spots and recommendations for weeks prior. There’s something satisfying about that kind of control, and knowing exactly what you’re getting into before you get there. Again, re-read the part where I said I am a Type-A, Cancer woman.
So when a Turkey trip came up last fall, my first instinct was to say no. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because it wasn’t exactly a top priority at the time. And I’ve learned over the years that when something doesn’t make sense (or feel comfortable) within all of the madness, I usually just don’t do it.
But I went. Something about it kept nagging at me, and I said yes before I could talk myself out of it. Because why not exercise my free-will with a trip to a destination that some could only dream of visiting within their lifetime? After I had that pep talk with myself, I was on a plane trying not to think too hard about the fact that I was going somewhere I knew absolutely nothing about. Well, not yet at least, because during that 12-hour flight (which featured a connection in Istanbul), I did a crash course on everything that the Aegean Coast had to offer.
See, the Aegean Coast isn’t the Turkey most people picture. It’s not Istanbul with its famous mosques and bazaars (or even the medical tourism that I’ve been seeing up and down my timeline for people who want hair transplants or their medical testing done). This is along Turkey’s western coastline, which stretches along the Aegean Sea with ancient port cities and fishing villages. This area blends Greek and Roman history into Turkish culture, meaning where you can visit ruins in the morning and eat fresh seafood by the water at night. I knew that much from the itinerary, but knowing something on paper and actually being there are completely different things.
First up was Izmir, which is a sprawling coastal city that manages to feel both ancient and completely alive at the same time. I spent the first day just walking around (because I’d landed in the morning) trying to get a sense of the place, fighting off jetlag before dinner that evening and letting myself be a little lost before the real itinerary started. From there we drove out to Çeşme and Alaçatı, which are smaller seaside towns where all the buildings are painted in soft pastels and the streets are so narrow that your shoulders almost brush the walls on either side when you walk through them. We explored Çeşme Castle, wandered through the cobblestone streets of Alaçatı, and then headed to Urla for an olive oil tasting. Urla is becoming known as one of Turkey’s emerging wine and culinary regions, and sitting in this beautiful space while they brought out different oils and explained the differences between them, the regions they came from, the specific harvest times that affect the flavor, I realized I’d been buying and using olive oil my whole life without knowing anything about it. Just grabbing whatever bottle looked good at the store, drizzling it on salads, and cooking with it like it was all the same. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.
That pattern repeated itself everywhere we went, and as each day went by, I got more and more comfortable. I felt free, actually.
Continuing along the coast, we visited Ephesus, one of the best-preserved Roman archaeological sites in the world, and walked through a city that’s been standing for thousands of years. We had lunch at a Michelin-selected restaurant at a vineyard, and then the trip continued south to Didim for visits to traditional Aegean mansions and the ancient cities of Miletus and Didyma, where the Temple of Apollo sits with these massive columns reaching toward the sky.
We toured Bodrum Castle and the Underwater Archaeology Museum, took a cooking class with a chef who taught us about Mediterranean cuisine like she was sharing family secrets, and I actually paid attention instead of thinking about what I was going to post about it later. The boat tour along the turquoise coast was a trip highlight, and so was dinner at Yalıkavak Marina watching the sun set over water so blue it looked fake.
Here’s what I figured out somewhere between Izmir and that final dinner overlooking the water. I’d been calling my controlled, predictable life…. freedom. The road trips I’d taken a dozen times, the Caribbean spots where I knew which beach to hit and which restaurant wouldn’t disappoint, were all of my ways of exercising my “freedom” and choosing my life. But I was really just choosing what I already knew, over and over, because it felt safe. And safety isn’t the same thing as freedom, even though we like to pretend it is.
Freedom actually showed up when I stopped trying to make Turkey fit into categories I already understood. When I tasted food I couldn’t identify, walked through streets I couldn’t read, and trusted that I’d figure it out as I went. The freedom wasn’t in having control, but instead, letting go of needing it.
