Not Just a Vacation, a Reclamation

Temple of Olympian Zeus - Athens, Greece

When I was younger, there were places I never thought I’d actually go. Some felt unsafe. Others just seemed off-limits for someone like me. Honestly, the world had already drawn the lines about where I did and didn’t belong.

One time, my fiancé, Ian and I were driving across the country and stopped in this conservative town to check into a hotel. I was low-key freaking out, thinking we’d get that look or the question, “Are you sure you don’t want two beds?” But I told myself, it’s none of their business. We walked up, checked in, and guess what? The clerk didn’t even bat an eye. That small moment felt huge — like reclaiming space I’d been told wasn’t mine.

Or there was this Pride event in Orlando where I bought these swim trunks — way shorter and tighter than anything I’d worn before. Growing up, I was teased about my weight, so stepping out poolside was nerve-wracking. I kept telling myself, just one step, then another. When I finally jumped in, no one stared. I was just there, free to be me.

Travel isn’t just about ticking places off a list. It’s about showing up in places—and parts of yourself—that maybe once felt off-limits or scary. Like meeting Ian’s family for the first time at Thanksgiving in New England. I was nervous as hell, worried about how they’d see me. But by the end, I clicked with his sister, and suddenly, I felt at home.

Or that solo trip I took to Greece after studying in Scotland. Arriving in Athens late at night, sick, with almost no English spoken around me—it was terrifying. But it taught me I could do this, I could handle being out there on my own.

Even little things like sitting on a bridge in Dublin with my coffee and a local paper at sunrise made me feel connected to the world. Like, no matter where we are, we’re all neighbors under the same sun.

So yeah, travel can be reclaiming. It’s about grabbing back the parts of yourself the world tried to erase.

What part of yourself do you want to claim next?