When we planned a cruise for my 50th birthday, I imagined excitement, celebration, and finally getting away to relax. What I did not imagine was the wave of airline issues that kept coming, one after another, until my husband and I finally looked at each other and said, “Let’s just drive.”
So now, instead of flying, we are on a 27 hour road trip from Minnesota to Florida.
And as I sit in the passenger seat writing this, I am thinking about something I wish more people understood:
Traveling with a disability is never spontaneous.
It is strategic, emotional, and full of invisible work most people will never see.
Because from the outside, it probably looks easy.
I travel often. I go to concerts. I go on trips. I make it work. So people assume it must just be simple for me.
It is not simple.
It is planned, researched, and emotionally prepared for long before the suitcase is even zipped.
The Invisible Planning No One Talks About
When most people plan a trip, they think about flights, hotels, and maybe what outfits they want to pack.
When I plan a trip, I am thinking about sidewalks, ramps, distances, elevators, room layouts, scooter charging, parking proximity, and how much physical energy each day will require.
Before this road trip, I checked every single stop on Google Maps Street View. Not casually. Intentionally. I zoomed in to look for curbs, steps, narrow entrances, and whether my scooter could fully access the space.
If the location was not clearly accessible, I had to ask myself:
Where is the closest parking?
Is there a ramp?
Will I have to walk farther than my body can realistically handle?
This level of research is not optional for me. It is the difference between a trip that feels freeing and one that becomes physically and emotionally overwhelming.
I also call hotels, airlines, and venues ahead of time. Every time. Not because I want to be extra, but because confirmation means fewer surprises when I arrive already tired from traveling.
That extra time may look excessive to others. To me, it is survival planning.
The Energy Budget Behind Every “Fun” Trip
Another thing people rarely see is the constant energy budgeting that happens behind the scenes.
I have to pace myself carefully. That means thinking about how much walking, standing, or navigating crowds I can realistically do in one day. It means making sure I get enough sleep before travel days. It means knowing that even something small going wrong can throw my body and emotions completely off balance.
If accessibility plans fail, it is not just inconvenient. It becomes stressful and emotional. People often forget how much anxiety is involved in entering spaces that may or may not be prepared for your needs.
There is always that question quietly running in the background:
Will this place actually work for me, or will I have to figure it out on the spot while exhausted?
The Emotional Weight People Don’t See
One of the hardest parts of traveling with a disability is the feeling that everyone is staring at you.
It is a constant awareness that my mobility scooter makes me visible in every space I enter. Even when I am excited to be somewhere, there is still that inner voice wondering if people understand that I am not using a scooter for fun. I am using it because my body needs it.
There are also moments that seem small to others but feel huge in the moment. A heavy door without an automatic button. A long hallway with no seating. A missing accessible entrance sign. Suddenly something that should have been simple becomes physically difficult and emotionally draining.
And yet, you still smile. You still try to look like you are having fun. Because you are grateful to be there, even when it is harder than people realize.
Why I Still Choose to Travel Anyway
Despite all the planning, the anxiety, and the extra effort, I still choose to travel. Every single time.
Seeing the world is my passion. It reminds me that my life is bigger than my diagnosis, bigger than my limitations, and bigger than the fears that sometimes try to hold me back.
Accessible travel is deeply connected to my sense of identity and independence. It proves to me that I can still get out in nature, still explore new places, and still experience joy on my own terms.
And yes, when a trip goes well, it feels incredibly empowering. Not because it was easy, but because I know how much invisible work went into making it successful. That extra time, that research, those confirmation calls, they all pay off in the freedom to simply be present and enjoy the moment.
This 50th Birthday Trip Means More Than a Vacation
As we drive from Minnesota to Florida, I am not just thinking about beaches or cruise ships. I am thinking about what this trip represents.
I am checking rest stops in advance. Confirming hotel accessibility. Planning scooter charging. Mapping out every location to make sure there are no obstacles that will limit my mobility.
All of that work is happening before we even reach our destination.
And what I am most excited to prove to myself at 50 is simple but powerful:
I am still able to get out, see the world, and enjoy my life despite my disabilities.
That realization alone makes every extra step of planning worth it.
What I Wish More People Understood
I wish non-disabled travelers understood the amount of time and thought that goes into making sure the most basic essentials are available. Things like ramps, accessible entrances, and step-free pathways are not small details. They are the difference between inclusion and exclusion.
Traveling With a Disability planning is not about being picky or high maintenance. It is about making sure we can participate fully and safely in the same experiences everyone else enjoys.
And to any disabled traveler who feels overwhelmed and wonders if it is just too much work, I want to say this:
Yes, it is a lot of work.
But it is also worth it.
The world is still yours to explore. Your life does not have to shrink just because your planning process is bigger.
Traveling with a disability is not just about getting there… it’s about LIVING life.
If you’re interested in learning more about my personal story and journey, I share it in My Invisible Disability Story | Choosing Life Beyond Limits
Follow me on social media:
