After Summer: On Anxiety, Loved Ones Battling Illness, and Travel Exhaustion

For some, returning from a long trip feels like relief—slipping back into the comfort of routine. For others, it takes another kind of vacation just to recover from the vacation itself.

Scrolling past another picture-perfect highlight reel on Instagram? I don’t fall for it. Travel, for me, is never just a string of sunsets and gelato shots. It’s layered with anxiety—travel anxiety, separation anxiety, the weight of goodbyes.

My journeys are not about places, but people. My loved ones are scattered across the globe, so travel means I must go, and travel means I must part. And yes, it also seems to mean I must carry anxiety with me—though I have learned, slowly, that there is much I can do to soften its grip.

Lately, travel has become even heavier. Within both my family and circle of close friends, some are battling cancer in different stages. I am still resisting the word terminal—my heart refuses it. So our trips are no longer about sightseeing but about soul-seeing: gathering memories, showing up in love, weaving moments that will become timeless tokens in the heart. These journeys remind me, again and again, of the fragility and the holiness of being human.

My anxiety—an old childhood companion—crept back during perimenopause. For decades, high hormone levels shielded me from it, almost as if I had “grown out of it.” But as those protective levels drop, the old familiar restlessness returned.

I’ve built an entire toolbox to help myself: bio-identical hormones, adaptogenic herbs, vagus nerve therapies, lifestyle shifts, and Ayurvedic treasures. Without these, I don’t know how I’d manage weeks of living out of a suitcase—packing and repacking, eating unfamiliar foods, saying too many goodbyes, missing the grounding rhythm of my own kitchen sanctuary.

And I know I’m not alone. I’ve noticed the same increased mental sensitivity in many of my friends—especially women over 35. Hormonal changes, children navigating puberty, parents facing illness: the middle chapter of life comes with waves of challenge that test both body and spirit.

This last return home left me completely exhausted, physically unwell, and deeply drained. Yet even in struggle, I’m grateful for my toolbox—grateful for the ways it steadies me, and grateful that I can share it to help others too.

If you’re walking through your own season of exhaustion, anxiety, or transition, know that you are not alone. There is so much we can do to support ourselves and each other.

✨ I’m back and open to seeing new patients. If you’d like to schedule a consultation, reach out—I’d love to help you find your own toolkit for resilience.