Redefining Adventure: How I Met Theo 2.0

I used to think adventure was a luxury. A thing for spontaneous people who packed light, had no backup plan, and actually liked surprises. And when analyzing my life,  I packed like I was preparing for a zombie apocalypse and even rehearsed conversations before ordering dinner.But somewhere along the line, I realized adventure wasn’t about chaos, it was about growth. About shaking loose the dust. About stepping into a version of myself I hadn’t met yet.And wow, that version is bolder than I expected. Welcome to Theo 2.0!

Growth? From This?

I won’t pussyfoot around it, adventure is uncomfortable. Especially with autism, mental health, or anxiety in the mix. New environments can be overwhelming. Social situations are exhausting. Unpredictable changes are a major stress trigger. So why do it? Because discomfort isn’t always the enemy. In fact, some of my most powerful breakthroughs have come right after those “what was I thinking” moments. That time I moved across the country without knowing anyone was a total nightmare. But it also taught me I could adapt. I could problem solve under pressure. I could make it through the unknown and come out more confident.

Adventure brings out resilience I didn’t know I had. And yeah, I’ve cried in restaurants. I’ve panicked in grocery stores and had meltdowns in traffic jams. But I’ve also felt a kind of pride I never found inside my comfort zone.

The Unexpected Benefits of Being Uncomfortable

You know what adventure does? It breaks the cycle. The loop of anxiety, the repetition of routine, the mental clutter that builds up when I’m stuck. It forces me to pay attention, to notice what’s around me instead of obsessing over what’s in my head. I’m able to slow down, look around, soak in my environment, but most of all escape my mind.

When I’m out there, navigating unfamiliar streets or just trying a new experience, I can’t afford to be on autopilot. That full body presence is rare. And honestly, it’s kind of surreal.

Even little adventures, like walking a new route, attending a local event, or trying a new coffee shop, pull me into the now. And “now” is a much better place to be than whatever disaster my anxiety is inventing next.

Real Talk with a Local Bartender: “Why Speed Through Life”

In my late 20s, I took a solo trip down the East Coast. When I reached Charleston, South Carolina, the slower pace of the drivers immediately caught my attention. It was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle I was used to, but it quickly started to feel like a welcome change.

After checking into my hotel, I decided to explore the local food scene and ended up at a place called “Planet Follywood.” The name alone was enough to draw me in, it was too good not to check out.

I grabbed a seat at the bar, ordered a “Reef Donkey” and a bacon cheeseburger, and struck up a conversation with the bartender. I asked him about the laid-back vibe and why everyone seemed to be cruising well under the speed limit. His response was simple but hit me right in the feels: “Why speed through life when you can drive slow and appreciate the beauty surrounding you?”

For a moment, I just sat there, burger in hand, letting it sink in.

Coping Strategies That Make Adventure Less Scary

I’m not fearless. Not even close. But I’ve built a toolkit that makes adventure, big or small, a little less overwhelming.

I plan just enough to feel safe. Not everything, just the bones. The hiking plan of attack, where I’ll stay and the rest I leave open.

I bring comfort items everywhere. My earbuds, snacks I like, and laptop with all the music are non-negotiable. They ground me when things feel out of control.

And when it’s all too much, I pause. I let myself feel whatever I need to feel. I scream, cuss, run, cry, whatever. Then I get back up and keep going. Because growth isn’t linear. It’s a mess. And I’m a goddamn hot mess.

So, What’s It Really About?

Adventure brings out my strength. My creativity. My ability to bend without breaking. It teaches me that I can live fully, even with a shotgun of anxiety aimed at my head.

It’s not about chasing danger or proving something to the world. It’s about proving something to myself. That I’m not stuck. That I’m not limited to the labels I’ve carried for so long. That I can keep moving, even when I’m scared.

Growth doesn’t always come up in therapy sessions or support groups. Sometimes, it’s in the awkward conversations, the unplanned detours, the moments when you realize, Hey, I’m doing it. I’m actually okay.

Adventure Isn’t Optional, It’s Essential

For me, adventure isn’t just an escape. It keeps me evolving, even when anxiety tries to lock me in place. It reminds me that I’m capable of handling more than I think.

And every time I take a step into the unknown, I meet a version of myself who’s a little braver, a little softer, a little more whole.

So if you’re autistic and anxious and wondering if adventure is “worth it.” Trust me, it is. Start small. Go slow. But go. Because the world, and you, have so much more to offer than fear allows.

What’s the biggest adventure you’ve taken lately? Or the smallest one that still felt huge? I’d love to hear your story. Let’s swap wins, struggles, and maybe a few messy but beautiful moments along the way.

Still Want More?

For those who want to capture these breathtaking views and bring a piece of nature home, Unicorn Adventure offers high-quality nature photography prints. Check out their collection and find the perfect image to remind you of your hiking experience!