Sarah WallockThis piece was written in May 2026 and never published. I then had to cancel my international summer travel plans, due to symptoms related my brain. My next trip abroad is Japan 2027.
Look at a study abroad brochure in college and book a flight to Vietnam? Yup.
Live in the old medina of Morocco and lift weights at the tiny gym and attempt to speak Arabic? Yes!
Head to Belgium in the middle of winter when tourism is virtually nonexistent? That’s me.
Head to Peru to solo hike mountains, taste maracuya juice and indulge in copious amounts of ceviche? Sounds like Sarah.
Sitting still felt like the worst punishment in the world. And from 15 years-old to 25, I was unstoppable. I traversed peaks, tried my hand at a number of new languages, tasted foods I couldn’t pronounce and was always saying “yes” to every single opportunity that was presented to me.
It was a determination so strong it got in the way of relationships, career goals, study advancements, family and pretty much everything I could imagine.
“I will always love travel more than you,” I said to my husband as a 20 year-old when we were creating our life together during our younger years.
I was driven. And I loved the world. That drive compelled me to wake up with the sun, run up mountains, jump into alpine lakes and do it all over again. Every weekend. Since I found the feeling I was chasing.
When ultimately I had to become more cautious for my safety due to a seizure disorder and brain tumor diagnosis at 25, I was forced to have a reckoning with the way I had been living. On the edge.
While the view was beautiful from hidden beaches and unmarked trails, and while carving my own path was exhilarating; something wasn’t working anymore.
With a new brain, an unknown sense of direction and a renewed sense of clarity, I had a necessity and new desire to slow down. Rather than move at the speed of light, I started to stop, notice, pause and try to sit with myself instead of running to the next destination.
While the pangings of street food in Taiwan and powder in Japan and glaciated peaks of Argentina and the Austrian alps are still calling. Right now, I’m letting them ring and putting them on hold.
With a new brain, I trotted off to India, confident as ever but internally a jumbled utter mess. Something wasn’t right or how it used it be. While some things jogged all my positive travel memories like the kindest of strangers, the warmth of a smile, the rich flavors of local treats; some things, like my personal health and stamina and lived experience, had totally run amuck. While it was beautiful on the outside, it sucked on the inside, trying to cope with my new reality.
Okay, maybe India was a blip? Try, try again.
I trotted off to England for two weeks to see my in-laws and finish my memoir and attend a wedding. There I was in my new body, new brain and traveling as a new person. While riddled with fear to cross the ocean and leap into the unknown, I found a love of the English countryside, a new affinity for winding streets in quaint villages, and started forming my new relationship with travel.
My formerly perceived “invincibility” I now knew, was just a misperception of my stolen youth.
I tried to travel another time. I used to be fearless, smiley, silly and confident. I would bound through airports bringing light and joy everywhere I went. But something had changed within me now that I knew I was not invincible.
On the way to Croatia later that year, 2024, I stopped in England. All went as planned but the subway felt different. The crowds felt different and the noises felt more intense.
In Croatia, everything was moving a million miles a minute. The opposite of a beachy holiday, was effectively an intense bike race, festival, bacchanal. It was terrifying.
My nervous system shot into overdrive and reminded me I’m just human.
I know my limits and I was totally tested, pushed to the brink of exhaustion and destroyed. My brain malfunctioned and $2,000 accrued of personal debt later, I made it home early to Mum and Dad’s in London in one-piece. Just barely, or so it felt.
This didn’t feel like the travel I knew. It felt terrible and life-threatening. Completely awful. I felt like I was paying to traumatize myself. It was mortifying.
“Give it another try, Sarah! You got this. Travel is your favorite thing in the world. Travel makes you you.”
Off to Costa Rica I trotted with my husband, my intrepid attitude and my brain that I was becoming more familiar with. The new me. I met a woman who changed my life. I drank maracuya juice and biked in the sunshine and saw monkeys and dolphins. I celebrated three years of marriage with the love of my life. It was travel like it should be. What an absolute privilege.
While my new brain and I are just getting to know each other, our first few dates with travel have been very hard. Different. Mindful. A series of tests. Travel is so messy and honest and it requires a self-awareness that has always been there. But that awareness changes as you develop and age too.
As I pack my bags to go abroad this summer, the same girl who thrived on the road for a decade of her life is still in there somewhere. But right now, she’s bringing different baggage.
She’s still looking for her beaming smile and reclaiming her confidence, but she knows she can find it in the mountains somewhere.
