Traveling on Your Body's Terms: A New Kind of Adventure
My first chronic illness diagnosis came at 18. A second followed last year, at 30. For over a decade, conditions common in my family—psoriasis and PCOS—have meant a life punctuated by flare-ups and a constant, unwelcome awareness of my own physical state.
This reality is most pronounced when I travel. A long flight, a change in climate, even unfamiliar water can derail a day or an entire trip. I’ve learned to manage fatigue, and I’ve also ended up hospitalized. Travel demands a negotiation my body doesn’t always honor.
At 25, I was in New Zealand, canoeing in the Bay of Islands. For weeks, my friend and I moved between hostels, drank wine on beaches, and felt gloriously separate from ordinary life. But my psoriasis, covering both arms, began reacting to the sun. By the time I boarded the 20-hour flight home, my skin was transforming. I landed in England with erythrodermic psoriasis, a severe reaction so rare my dermatologist had seen it once in 40 years. The final pain was searing; clothing felt like fire.
Another trip to southern France was spent entirely in bed, lost to crippling stomach pain.
These experiences reshape how you move through the world. Spontaneity is often the first casualty. I’ve canceled dives, postponed hikes, and watched from a hotel room while friends headed to the beach. What saves the journey is a support network. I rarely travel alone now. My partner and friends provide unspoken care—carrying a bag, fetching medicine—that makes continuing possible.
People with chronic conditions deserve to see the world. It won’t always be easy, and sometimes your body will insist on its own plans. The key is working around those requirements.
My advice is hard-won. First, know your limits and honor them, even when group dynamics pressure you to keep up. It’s okay to rest while others explore. Second, prepare meticulously. I travel with refrigerated medication, which means cooler bags, airline notifications, and planning trips around injection schedules. Pack every comfort and medication you might need; an extra suitcase is worth it. Finally, keep the routines that help you. Don’t abandon the stretches, sleep, or dietary habits that manage your health, even while embracing holiday joy.
Travel for me is no longer what it was at 18. But it remains expansive and full of wonder, built on planning, patience, and a deeper partnership with the body that takes me there.