Personal Safety Standards for Travelers: Why Boundaries Are Not Optional

I’ve traveled for decades—across countries, continents, and oceans. I’ve shared cabins with strangers, joined international sailing flotillas, and dropped into communities where I knew no one. And one thing that’s kept me grounded through it all has been a clear, consistent set of personal safety practices.

They’re not new to me. I’ve lived by them for a long time. And this past month, when things got unexpectedly complicated, I realized just how essential they truly are. The situation could have gone very differently if I hadn’t already made it my routine to check the boxes that protect my wellbeing—both physically and emotionally.

If you’re someone who travels independently, especially to meet up with new sailing crews or adventure groups, I want to share what has worked for me. These are the practices I rely on. Not out of fear. Out of respect for my life, my peace, and my right to walk away when something doesn’t feel right.

1. Do the Homework First

I research the person, not just the place. Always. If someone claims credentials, I check them. If they’re part of a professional or recreational network, I look for confirmation. I don’t just take people at their word because they’re enthusiastic or charming. I don’t assume that shared interests equal shared values. It’s not paranoia—it’s discernment.

2. Clarify the Agreement in Writing

Even casual arrangements deserve structure. Before I book anything, I ask for a clear understanding of:

  • Who is responsible for what

  • What the living setup will be

  • What the costs are

  • Who else is involved

  • What the timeline looks like

When this isn’t possible, or if someone avoids these questions, that tells me what I need to know.

3. Share Real-Time Details with Someone I Trust

This is non-negotiable. A close contact always knows:

  • Where I’m going and with whom

  • My travel dates

  • Marina or location addresses

  • Names and screenshots, if needed

I also keep a location-sharing app running if the trip feels particularly remote or uncertain.

4. Have a Personal Exit Plan—Always

I never rely on someone else’s timeline to get home. I always:

  • Know how to leave, with or without assistance

  • Keep funds separate for an emergency

  • Stay in places with private access if I can

  • Keep my essentials packed and ready, just in case

This isn’t just about escape. It’s about preserving choice.

5. Trust My Gut Immediately

This is the one I come back to again and again.
If I have to convince myself to stay, that’s a reason to go.
If I find myself reinterpreting red flags into grey areas, trying to talk myself out of what I’m seeing or feeling, that’s the signal. Not when something blows up. Not when it becomes obvious to everyone else.
Right then. That’s the moment. That’s enough.
My intuition doesn’t owe me a logical explanation. It only needs to be acknowledged.

6. Say It Out Loud

When something feels wrong, I don’t downplay it. I name it—to myself, to a friend, in writing. Sometimes just the act of saying, “This feels off and I don’t like it,” gives me the clarity to act on it. Silence can be a trap. Naming it reclaims the power.

7. Know That Leaving Early Is Not a Failure

This has taken years to fully embody, but I live it now:
Leaving is not quitting. Leaving is choosing yourself.
I do not owe anyone my discomfort. I do not owe anyone my silence. I do not stay in a situation that requires me to explain away my instincts or compromise my safety to avoid offending someone.

The Big Picture

This last experience reminded me that preparation is not about assuming the worst. It’s about creating enough structure around yourself that, if something does go sideways, you don’t freeze or fumble. You act. You leave. You protect your own peace.

And if you’re someone who travels solo, you already know this: safety isn’t just about physical harm. It’s about autonomy. It’s about staying grounded in your own power, especially when the people around you are trying to pull you off center.

I’ve practiced these boundaries for years. And this time, they didn’t just help me—they protected me.

If you don’t have your own version of this yet, make one. Tailor it to your life. Write it down. And stick to it.

Because your gut is not noise.
It’s wisdom.
And when it speaks, it’s speaking for you.

— Leigh

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When Your Gut Says Go: Learning to Walk Away