The real benefits of traveling alone are self-reliance and decision confidence, built through evidence. Most first-timers wish they’d started sooner.
This article is for anyone who keeps thinking about solo travel but hasn’t yet found a good enough reason to go, or a good enough reason to trust themselves to do it. You’ll find the case for going, the case for going now, and a 3-stage framework that turns abstract interest into a defensible personal decision.
You’ve been thinking about going. For months, possibly longer. And somewhere between the Google searches and the saved travel photos, a question keeps surfacing: not “how do I do this?” but “am I actually allowed to?”
That’s the question this article answers directly. Not with inspiration, and not with a list of reasons designed to convince you. With a system.
This article introduces The Self-Permission Proof, a 3-stage framework that takes you from “I keep thinking about it” to “I went, and I know what I’m capable of.” It doesn’t ask you to convince yourself to be brave. It asks you to gather evidence that you already are.
I’ve watched this exact hesitation stop hundreds of first-timers, and I’ve watched the trip dissolve it in 48 hours. This guide is for nervous first-timers at the decision stage who want permission and a clear framework, not just a list of reasons.
Should I Travel Solo?
If you keep asking, you already have your answer. Most first-timers are not blocked by inability. They’re waiting for permission they already have.
The question “should I?” is not a readiness test. It’s a permission test. And the fact that you’re still asking, still returning to it, still searching, still saving, means the desire is already there. Permission is already granted, by the fact that you want to go.
Two real objections tend to hide behind the question. The first is “Is it safe?” That’s a legitimate concern, and solo travel fear is completely normal. It’s also the subject of an entire article in this cluster that addresses the fear architecture directly. The second objection is “Will I be okay on my own?” That’s precisely what Stage 2 of The Self-Permission Proof tests.
What real solo travelers say about the decision is worth hearing too. Consistently, they report that the primary blocker wasn’t logistics, safety, or money. It was permission. The version of the decision that stopped them longest was the one that required them to decide they were the kind of person who does this. If this is your first time seriously considering solo travel, the “should I?” question is normal. It doesn’t mean you’re not ready. It means you haven’t run the test yet.
The better question (the one this article actually answers) is: what are the real benefits of traveling alone, and are they worth it for you specifically?
The Real Benefits of Traveling Alone
What are the benefits of traveling alone?
Solo travel builds self-reliance and decision confidence, skills group travel rarely develops when you’re never the sole decision-maker.
Before going further, it’s worth being precise about what solo travel actually means. The definition shapes which benefits apply. The core benefits divide into three categories, but understanding them as a flat list misses the point. These aren’t features you acquire from travel like items in a shop. They’re conclusions you reach through accumulated evidence.
Freedom and autonomy: the ability to go where you want, when you want, without negotiating an itinerary, without waiting for the group, without changing your plans because someone else is tired. This isn’t a small thing. Most people have never experienced a full day organised entirely around their own preferences. Solo travel makes that the default.
Personal growth and decision confidence: every logistical challenge you navigate alone deposits evidence that you can solve problems. The first time you navigate an unfamiliar transit system with no one to defer to. The first time you sit at a restaurant and order food in a language you don’t speak. The first time something goes mildly wrong and you fix it without help. These moments are the data. They’re what makes the confidence real rather than borrowed.
Social connection: this is the benefit most competitors miss entirely, because it contradicts the surface assumption. Solo travelers are more approachable, not less. A group creates a social bubble with no entry point. A solo traveler has none, which means locals and other travelers approach them naturally. The first time a stranger sits down next to you at a bar in a city where you know nobody, and you end up having the most interesting conversation of the trip, that’s a solo travel experience. It doesn’t happen in groups.
On your first solo trip, you’ll likely experience all three of these, in that order.
| Solo Travel Builds | Group Travel Builds |
|---|---|
| Self-reliance | Shared navigation |
| Decision confidence | Compromise and consensus |
| Self-knowledge | Group confidence |
| Unfiltered social connection | Reinforced existing group dynamic |
| Tolerance for uncertainty | Shared responsibility for outcomes |
Why do people actually travel solo?
Beyond freedom, the real motivations tend to cluster around autonomy over schedule, the desire to prove something to themselves, escape from the constant compromise of group travel, and (increasingly) the deliberate choice to make themselves the priority for a defined period of time.
Solo travel has moved from consolation prize to deliberate choice. Research commissioned by Norwegian Cruise Line in 2023 (the most recent large-scale figure available), surveying 2,000 UK and Ireland adults, found that over a third of Brits prefer to travel solo, not because they have no one to go with, but because the solo experience is genuinely different.
For first-timers especially, the decision is often about something simpler: they want to go somewhere, no one else’s schedule aligns, and at some point the choice becomes this: wait indefinitely or go. The ones who go tend to stop waiting after that.
What Solo Travel Actually Does to You
What is the psychology of people who travel alone?
Solo travel is motivated by freedom and self-discovery, not loneliness. Research links it to higher resilience, self-efficacy, and clearer decisions.
Dr Jenna Kirtley, a clinical psychologist writing for The Travel Psychologist, has reviewed the academic research on this question and cites two studies worth naming directly. Bianchi (2015), published in the International Journal of Tourism Research, found that solo travelers’ satisfaction was driven more by personal feelings of freedom, relaxation, and discovery (and by interactions with other people) than by destination-specific factors like sights or accommodation. Yang (2021), published in Current Issues in Tourism, found that transformative experience, freedom, and flexibility motivate people who already travel solo, while anticipated self-discovery and freedom are what draw potential solo travelers toward trying it for the first time.
The psychology here connects directly to Stage 2 and Stage 3 of The Self-Permission Proof. Stage 2 is the mechanism by which self-efficacy builds. Every challenge navigated alone produces the evidence the research identifies. Stage 3 is the documentation protocol that prevents that evidence from fading.
The loneliness concern deserves direct address. The data doesn’t support it as an outcome. Solo travelers experience solitude (chosen, temporary, and often energising), not the isolation the word “loneliness” implies. The experience of being alone in a city where no one knows you, with complete freedom over your day, is categorically different from the loneliness of social isolation at home.
For first-timers who carry this fear: the “what if I’m lonely?” question fades within 48 hours of arrival, when the first interesting thing demands your full attention. It’s replaced almost immediately by “what do I want to do next?” If you want to explore solo travel anxiety further before departure, there’s a full system there for managing it. If the anxiety reaches beyond the first-trip decision, the broader travel anxiety framework helps separate situational nerves from a wider pattern.
Is it healthy to travel alone?
The mechanism is well established. Confronting logistical challenges alone builds coping capacity, not by eliminating the challenges, but by proving, through repeated experience, that you can handle them. Each successful navigation adds to a reservoir of evidence that anxiety cannot override.
The post-trip transfer is the part competitors don’t mention. The confidence, resilience, and self-trust that build during solo travel don’t stay at the airport gate. Dr Kirtley makes this point from direct clinical and personal experience: the confidence, self-reliance, and trust in yourself that solo travel builds carry over into everyday life, and the problem-solving and decision-making skills strengthened on the road transfer to situations at work and in relationships. People who travel solo often report handling work challenges, relationship decisions, and life transitions with noticeably more confidence, not because travel gave them new skills, but because it gave them evidence about capabilities they already had.
Solo travel also correlates with mindfulness: the present-moment attention that comes from navigating unfamiliar environments without a companion to default to. When everything requires active engagement, there’s no bandwidth for rumination.
The misconception behind most solo travel hesitation isn’t fear of danger. It’s a quieter belief: that solo travel is something you do once you’ve become confident, adventurous, or run out of people to go with, not a deliberate first choice for someone who’s nervous.
That belief causes a specific problem. If solo travel is a personality trait rather than a learnable skill, you end up waiting to become the “solo travel type,” a threshold that never actually arrives, because it isn’t real. Months of research pass. Nothing books.
Here’s what experienced solo travelers actually did differently: they didn’t feel ready first. They went, and the trip produced the readiness. The feeling followed the action. It never preceded it, not once, for almost anyone who’s done this.
The correct lens changes the whole equation. Solo travel isn’t a test of who you already are. It’s a generator of evidence about what you’re capable of. The trip doesn’t require confidence walking in. It produces confidence walking out.
This is exactly what The Self-Permission Proof is built to do. Instead of waiting to feel ready, it maps the sequence (specific fear, then trip, then confidence transfer) in advance, so you know exactly what you’re signing up for, and why the outcome is more predictable than it feels right now.
The Self-Permission Proof: A 3-Stage Framework
Solo travel builds confidence through evidence, not inspiration. Every time you solve a problem alone (miss a connection, navigate an unfamiliar city, order food without speaking the language), you generate a piece of proof that cannot be argued with. The Self-Permission Proof is the name for the 3-stage process by which that evidence accumulates into lasting self-trust.
It works because the proof is yours, earned through your own actions, not borrowed from someone else’s travel story.
When to use it: When you keep thinking about solo travel but keep finding reasons to postpone. The framework makes the outcome predictable and gives the decision a rational foundation.
This is a 3-stage subset of the full Confidence Bridge Protocol taught in the Pillar Hub. The framework here covers the motivation and permission stage. The full first-trip preparation system lives in first solo trip preparation. This article gives you the foundation; that one gives you the execution system.
Stage 1: Name It (The Permission Diagnosis)
What it means: Identify the specific fear, not “I’m scared of solo travel” as a category, but the precise scenario you’re actually dreading. “I’m scared of eating alone at a restaurant and feeling judged.” “I’m scared of getting lost with no map and no one to ask.” “I’m scared it means something about me that I have to go alone.” Naming the fear is the first act of taking it seriously rather than dismissing it.
Action: Diagnose
Tools: A journal, or the First-Timer’s Self-Permission Checklist below
Time required: Roughly 20–30 minutes before booking. Some people need less, some need longer.
Common mistake: Naming a vague fear (“I’m scared in general”) rather than a specific one. Vague fears cannot be tested. Specific fears can.
Stage 2: Test It (The Trip as Evidence Machine)
What it means: The trip is not a performance. It’s a controlled experiment. Every challenge you navigate alone, every moment you handle something without help, is a data point. You are not trying to enjoy yourself; you are trying to find out what you’re made of. (You will enjoy yourself. But that’s a side effect.)
Action: Execute
Tools: Offline maps (Google Maps offline, downloaded for your destination before departure), a global data SIM, one emergency contact with your shared location
Time required: Duration of first trip (recommended: 4–7 days, single destination)
Common mistake: Choosing a trip that removes all challenge: airport transfers pre-booked, guided itinerary end to end, zero unstructured time. Zero challenge equals zero evidence. Keep at least 30% of the trip unstructured.
Stage 3: Own It (The Transfer Protocol)
What it means: The confidence doesn’t live on the trip. It follows you home, if you name it explicitly. Within 48 hours of returning, write down three things you handled alone that you didn’t think you could. These become the evidence file you return to when doubt resurfaces. This is how solo travel confidence becomes life confidence.
Action: Document
Tools: Notes app, travel journal, voice memo, anything that creates a retrievable record
Time required: Roughly 20 minutes post-trip
Common mistake: Not documenting. The evidence evaporates without recording. Self-doubt returns. The trip begins to feel like a fluke rather than proof.
Warnings:
- Choosing a destination to impress others rather than to test yourself. The evidence is meaningless if the motivation is external validation.
- Going with a “travel buddy” on your first solo trip “just in case.” This eliminates the test entirely. You need to be the sole decision-maker for Stage 2 to work.
- Declaring yourself not ready after one bad day. Evidence requires a full sample. One difficult afternoon is data, not a verdict.
Field observation: The moment most first-timers remember is not the beautiful view or the great meal. It’s the moment they handled something they thought they couldn’t: a missed train, a language barrier, a wrong turn into an unfamiliar neighbourhood. That moment is the whole point. Everything else is scenery.
The Self-Permission Proof in Practice
Thailand: Stage 1 in action. Before booking, my fear was vague: “I don’t want to feel pathetic.” Naming it precisely took twenty minutes of honest journaling. The real fear wasn’t solo travel itself, it was being seen eating alone and reading judgment into it. Once named, the fear became testable. On my first night in Chiang Mai, the fix was simple: bar seating at a night market food stall, elbow-to-elbow with other diners. Ten minutes in, a vendor started a conversation about the dish. The vague fear had a shape now, and the shape turned out to be manageable.
Once the decision itself feels settled, the Solo Activity Ladder System is the practical next step for building up what you actually do once you’re there.
Vietnam: Stage 2 in action. I landed in Hanoi with a transport app that wouldn’t load and no local data plan yet activated. Not a comfortable start, and no one to hand the problem to. The offline map I’d downloaded before departure became my only working tool, and it worked. Twenty minutes of careful navigation, one wrong turn corrected, one moment of genuine uncertainty resolved without help. That’s not a travel story I’d tell at a dinner party. It’s evidence, deposited exactly as Stage 2 predicts.
Spain: Stage 3 in action. Three weeks after returning from Barcelona, the old doubt resurfaced: was that just luck? Could I actually do it again? My answer was already written down, four specific things I’d handled alone, recorded within 48 hours of landing home: a missed train rebooked without panic, a full day planned and executed with zero input from anyone else, a solo dinner that stopped feeling like an event by day three, a language barrier solved with a translation app and patience. Documented evidence doesn’t leave room for doubt to win the argument.
Summary for scanners:
- Stage 1: Name the specific fear so it can be tested, not avoided.
- Stage 2: Take the trip. Every challenge navigated is evidence deposited.
- Stage 3: Document the evidence within 48 hours so the confidence follows you home.
The First-Timer’s Self-Permission Checklist
Before booking, work through these 8 readiness signals. These are not tasks to complete before departure. They’re signals that the hesitation is a permission gap, not a capability gap.
- [ ] I know the specific fear that’s been stopping me (not “being scared,” but the exact scenario)
- [ ] I have a destination in mind, even if I haven’t committed to it
- [ ] I have at least 4 consecutive days available
- [ ] I am willing to eat one meal alone on the first day
- [ ] I am willing to navigate at least one transport leg without help
- [ ] I understand that discomfort on day 1 is calibration, not failure
- [ ] I have told one person I’m going (accountability signal)
- [ ] I have read this article to the end
If you check 6 of 8 boxes, you’re not waiting for readiness. You’re waiting for a date.
The Questions You’re Afraid to Ask
What if I feel lonely or eat alone?
The loneliness fear is almost always about visible solitude, being seen alone at a restaurant and feeling judged. Not abstract isolation. That distinction matters, because the two have entirely different solutions, and it’s worth naming clearly that this specific fear of traveling alone is one of the most common blockers first-timers face.
The social dynamic of solo travel actually inverts the assumption. A group creates a closed bubble; there’s no easy entry point for strangers. A solo traveler has no bubble, which means they’re reachable. Locals and other travelers approach solo travelers more naturally than they approach groups. This is not inspirational narrative. It’s a documented pattern that shows up consistently across travel contexts.
The practical reality: restaurant bar seating solves the visible-solitude concern immediately. I’ve eaten alone at restaurant bars on three continents. Every time, within twenty minutes, someone at the bar started a conversation. You’re not sitting alone at a table for two. You’re sitting at a bar where conversation is the default. Most first-timers who identify the loneliness fear specifically report that it fades within the first evening, when the first interesting thing demands their full attention.
Expect a calibration period. Day 1 often feels uncomfortable, quieter, more self-conscious than expected. By day 2, most first-timers have stopped noticing they’re alone and started focusing on what they want to do next. The fear of loneliness and the experience of loneliness are not the same thing.
On cost: solo travel does cost more per night than splitting costs in a pair. That’s real, and it deserves honest acknowledgment. The next section addresses it directly.
Why is solo travel more expensive, and is it worth it?
Solo travel costs more per night than shared travel. The return in self-trust, autonomy, and confidence consistently outweighs the premium.
The single supplement is real. You’re paying for the full room, the full transport cost, without splitting it. Budget solo travel options exist: single beds in mixed accommodations, apartment rentals, shoulder-season timing. But the baseline cost is higher than travelling in a pair.
The framing that matters is ROI, not price. You are not paying for a more expensive trip. You are paying for the sole-decision-maker experience, the only configuration that produces Stage 2 evidence. A shared trip produces shared navigation, shared compromise, shared outcomes. None of those are the same as singular, personal proof.
The question isn’t whether solo travel costs more. It does. The question is whether what it gives you is worth the premium, and this is where the real benefits of traveling alone start to outweigh the arithmetic. The rest of this article answers that.
How to Know You’re Ready (Even If You Don’t Feel Ready)
What does traveling alone for the first time actually feel like?
The first day feels uncomfortable. After that, most first-timers say it’s the best trip they’ve taken. Discomfort is the calibration, not the verdict.
The typical first-day arc looks like this: arrival in an unfamiliar place, a moment of transport confusion that requires active problem-solving, a first meal alone (usually less terrible than anticipated), an evening with more silence than you’re used to, and somewhere in there a quiet shift. Not confidence, exactly. More like awareness that you’re managing.
The calibration window is real and it’s finite. Most first-timers experience it for 12–36 hours. After that, the question shifts from “can I do this?” to “what do I want to do next?” The discomfort is the system adjusting to a new operating mode, not evidence that solo travel isn’t for you.
Readiness is not a feeling that arrives before the trip. It’s a conclusion you reach on day 2, looking back at day 1.
Before you book, work through the First-Timer’s Self-Permission Checklist above, the 8 readiness signals that tell you whether your hesitation is a preparation gap or a permission gap.
Am I ready to travel alone for the first time?
“Am I ready?” is the wrong question. The right question is: “What specific thing am I afraid of?”
Redirect to Stage 1. Name the fear, not the readiness level. Readiness is a conclusion that follows from action, not a threshold you cross before taking it.
The concrete test: if you can answer three things (where am I going, how am I getting there, and where am I sleeping on night 1), you have enough to book. The rest figures itself out, and every part that requires figuring is a Stage 2 evidence opportunity.
On age: there is no right age to start solo travel. Anecdotally, travelers who begin in their 30s, 40s, and 50s often describe more clarity about what they want and less concern with external validation than they had in their 20s. The question “have I missed my window?” has a single answer: the window is open as long as you want to go.
Common Mistakes First-Timers Make
Most first-timers who decide to travel solo run into one of the same five mistakes. Each one blocks the evidence the trip is supposed to produce, and each one gets in the way of the actual benefits of traveling alone this article has laid out.
Mistake 1: Naming a Vague Fear Instead of a Specific One
It feels true and complete to say “I’m scared of solo travel.” It isn’t a diagnosis. It’s a category. Vague fears cannot be tested against evidence. You can’t take a trip that disproves “I’m scared.” You can take a trip that directly addresses “I’m scared of navigating an unfamiliar city without help” and proves, through direct experience, that you can.
Fix: Stage 1 of The Self-Permission Proof. Name it precisely. Write it down.
Mistake 2: Over-Preparing to Eliminate All Uncertainty
Maya-type planners do this naturally: pre-booked everything, guided tours at every stop, zero unstructured days. The intention is control. The outcome is an absence of evidence. Zero logistical challenges equals zero data deposited. The trip feels good but doesn’t transfer confidence, because confidence requires the experience of solving something alone.
Fix: Leave 30% of the trip unstructured. One meal with no reservation. One day with only a destination, not an itinerary. The discomfort of that unstructured time is exactly where the evidence lives.
Mistake 3: Treating Day 1 Discomfort as a Verdict
The calibration period is uncomfortable. First-timers who interpret discomfort as “this isn’t for me” are making a judgment on incomplete data. The calibration window closes within 12–36 hours for most people. Leaving on day 1, or building a mental narrative that solo travel “didn’t work,” forfeits the test before the results come in.
Fix: Commit to 72 hours minimum before drawing any conclusions. Day 3 is almost never what day 1 felt like.
Mistake 4: Waiting to Feel Ready Before Booking
The readiness feeling is expected to precede the decision. It doesn’t. It follows the action, which means waiting for readiness produces indefinite postponement. The trip never happens because the feeling never arrives independently of the trip.
Fix: Stage 1 first, then book. The trip produces readiness. Readiness does not produce the trip.
Mistake 5: Measuring Success by Enjoyment, Not Evidence
“How was the trip?” gets answered in terms of experiences: great food, interesting places, things that happened. The actual value (the confidence transfer, the evidence deposited) is invisible unless you name it. Stage 3 never happens by default.
Fix: Before the trip ends, write three things you handled alone that you didn’t think you could. That is the real metric. Everything else is bonus.
Summary
- The Self-Permission Proof is a 3-stage system: Name the specific fear → take the trip as evidence collection → document within 48 hours so the confidence transfers.
- Most important action: Name your specific fear before booking, not “being scared,” but the precise scenario you’re dreading. That’s the only fear a trip can test.
- Most common mistake: Waiting to feel ready. Readiness is a conclusion the trip produces, not a prerequisite for booking it.
- Tool to set up first: Offline maps (Google Maps offline) downloaded for your destination before departure. Navigation confidence is the fastest evidence generator.
- Next action (in the next 24 hours): Fill in the First-Timer’s Self-Permission Checklist. If you check 6 of 8 boxes, book the trip.
- Next step: Build the preparation system that fits the specific hesitation you identified.
Frequently Asked Questions
What are the benefits of traveling alone?
Solo travel builds self-reliance, confidence, and self-knowledge. First-timers also find they’re more approachable alone than in a group.
The mechanism is direct experience: every logistical challenge you navigate without help becomes evidence of capability. The social dimension surprises most first-timers. The absence of a group makes you naturally more approachable, and the conversations that result are often the best part of the trip.
Is it healthy to travel alone?
Yes. Research links solo travel to reduced anxiety, higher self-esteem, and better decision-making, benefits that persist after the trip ends.
The psychological benefits don’t end at the airport gate. The self-efficacy built through solo travel (the evidence that you can handle things you previously avoided) carries over into everyday decision-making and risk tolerance. Clinical psychologists who write about solo travel report this same pattern from their own trips and their clients’: confidence, self-reliance, and decision-making skills built abroad transfer to work and relationships at home.
What is the best age to travel alone?
There is no best age for solo travel. Anecdotally, travelers who start in their 30s and 40s often describe more clarity and less need for external validation than they had in their 20s. The right age is whenever you have the desire and the days. Most solo travelers wish they’d started sooner, not later.
Is 30 too old to start solo travel?
No. Thirty is an ideal age to start solo travel. Most travelers who begin in their 30s describe it as one of the best decisions they’ve made: enough confidence to navigate independently, enough self-knowledge to choose destinations that actually interest them, and enough life experience to appreciate what solo travel reveals.
How do you answer when someone asks why you’re traveling alone?
The simplest honest answer: you wanted to go and didn’t want to wait for schedules to align. Solo travel is a deliberate choice, not a consolation.
The question usually comes from genuine curiosity, not judgment. Most people asking have thought about solo travel themselves. The honest answer opens more conversations than it closes.
Is solo travel actually fun, or just something people say is good for you?
Both. The first day is often uncomfortable: calibration, not fun. After that, most first-time solo travelers describe it as the best trip they’ve ever taken. The enjoyment comes from total ownership of the experience: every good decision was yours, every interesting moment unshared, which makes it sharper, not duller. Solo travel is enjoyable and good for you. The two are not in competition.
Conclusion
Before you read this article, you were asking whether you’re the kind of person who does this, whether you’re allowed to choose it, whether the hesitation meant something disqualifying. The question of why travel solo, for you specifically, had no clean answer yet.
The Self-Permission Proof doesn’t ask you to be braver. It gives you a structure: name the specific fear, take the trip as the test, document the evidence within 48 hours. That’s the whole system. You don’t come back from your first solo trip convinced that solo travel is great. You come back with something harder to argue with, proof.
In the next 24 hours: go back to the First-Timer’s Self-Permission Checklist. If you check 6 of 8 boxes, you’re not waiting for readiness. You’re waiting for a date.
The next step is deciding which first-trip concern still needs a practical plan before you book.
Resources
Apps & Tools
Google Maps (offline): Download your destination map before departure for zero-data navigation. This is the single most important tool for Stage 2 evidence generation. Navigation confidence accumulates faster than almost any other solo skill. Available on iOS and Android, free.
Notes app (any): The evidence documentation tool for Stage 3. Within 48 hours of returning, write three things you handled alone that you didn’t think you could. The specific app doesn’t matter; what matters is that the record is retrievable.
If persistent anxiety is crowding out the permission work, a grounding practice for persistent anxiety can help you create enough calm to name the fear clearly.
Recommended Reading
The Travel Psychologist (thetravelpsychologist.co.uk): Dr Jenna Kirtley’s research-backed writing on the psychological outcomes of solo travel extends what this article can cover on self-efficacy, resilience, and post-trip transfer. The site is founded and edited by Dr Charlotte Russell. Useful if you want the research foundation behind what this article describes
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About the Author
Zisco is a solo traveler across 35+ countries over 24+ years, specialising in first-timer systems and anxiety-aware travel preparation. The Confidence Bridge framework was built after watching capable travelers fail to go, not from inability, but from waiting for permission that was already theirs.
