Traveling Disabled: What You Don’t See Behind a "Simple Trip"

When people see a few photos of me smiling at dinner or out with my family and friends, they might think I'm "fine."

They might assume that because I'm ambulatory .... because I can walk, talk, and laugh.... that I must be okay.

But what they don’t see is everything it takes behind the scenes just to get there...and the price I pay afterward.

Traveling isn’t new to me ....I’ve had to take trips to visit family since living out of state these last few years ....but each time, it’s an enormous undertaking, sometimes it's easier when they visit us but due to their work schedules and owning a business that makes it harder.

I don't just pack a carry-on and go.

I have to bring a second suitcase ...an entire extra bag filled only with my medical essentials: my TENS unit, my medications, CBD tinctur oil and chiro creams, my neck cloud for cervical release, heating pads, compression wraps, two TheraICE caps for my head for my migraines, two ice back wraps for my spine so I can swap them out when they get hot, my yoga block, my yoga straps, my reflexology ball, and my occipital release tool.

Most people pack extra bags for food, for their kids or diaper bags or even pets...

I pack an entire chronic pain medical supply bag ....just to have a fighting chance at making it through the trip.

The weight of all this alone would overwhelm a healthy person. For me, it’s survival gear.

Even getting through the airport isn’t normal for me.

Because of my medical device, I have to go through a special screening lane, where things get uncomfortable- fast.

TSA requires me to be fully patted down.

They touch every part of my body...my waistband, my hair, my butt... and even pat between and underneath my bra.

They run their hands up the insides of my thighs, stopping just before they reach the most private areas.

I have to turn off my TENS unit so they don’t get shocked when checking it, and they press along my spine where the electrode pads are placed, directly over my most painful areas.

I have to allow extra time for this process because it’s time consuming, invasive, exhausting, humiliating, and anything but simple.

I’ve even had past experiences where my TENS unit triggered a bomb alert in the airport system.

Alarms went off.

Suddenly TSA national security, airport police, and guards surrounded me from all sides, treating me like I was a threat. It was genuinely scary.

People stared.

I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was treated like I had.

I had to explain, while trembling with nerves and embarrassment..how my TENS unit worked.

I even offered to let them feel the electrical shocks it sends through my body just so they knew it was really a TENS unit.

They nervously declined.

I stood there humiliated while crowds stared at me like I was dangerous...when in reality, I was just disabled and trying to get home.

Airports aren't exactly exciting or glamorous for me anymore.

They’re stressful.

They’re painful.

They’re a reminder that even when you live with an invisible illness, the world sometimes demands you prove it.

The only thing I really enjoy about the airport anymore is getting an iced latte from Starbucks before my flight

It’s a small comfort...but it’s one thing that still feels a little bit normal and I do all of this because it's worth it to see my family.

Flights have to be carefully chosen to accommodate my body’s schedule....always later in the day, because my fibromyalgia keeps me sleeping until late afternoon most days.

Every part of travel has to be carefully structured around my needs.

For this upcoming trip, my husband and I are traveling down to Florida to celebrate my 30th birthday in July, with family and friends.

My parents have gone out of their way to make it possible.

They gifted us our flights for my birthday before my husband officially started his new job as a T-Mobile store manager, knowing we wouldn’t have been able to afford the trip on our own otherwise while in the in between.

By the time the trip happens, he’ll already be two months into his new job.... making the timing and their support even more meaningful. We are both very much looking forward to it!

They also paid for the extra luggage I need just for my fibromyalgia management tools.

My mom always has my yoga mat and hard foam roller waiting at their house because I can't physically bring everything, she does this not only to help me manage the pain but also to help keep my schedule as close to home life as possible so the transition would be easier on my body for the 5 day trip.

My mom also arranged a visit with a holistic chiropractor during the trip, and she booked double 90-minute deep tissue double couples massages for us and both of our spouses... bit for me it's not just luxury, but as a vital part of helping me manage my chronic pain while away from home and keep my body as stable as possible and it is noted and deeply appreciated.

Through all of it, I carry a deep sense of gratitude.

I am so thankful for my parents and my husband... not just for what they do, but for how they love me.

For how they support me, see me, and believe in me, even when my illness is invisible to the outside world.

Living with chronic pain can feel incredibly lonely, but having people who truly understand and stand by me is one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask for.

I also want to be clear: I know there are people fighting battles even heavier than mine.

I don't have cancer.

I’m not facing a terminal diagnosis.

I'm not living with Crohn’s disease, or Parkinson’s, or epilepsy, or countless other devastating conditions.

While fibromyalgia is brutal and life-altering, I know there are others who would trade places with me in a heartbeat.

This isn’t about saying I have it the worst.

It’s about giving an honest voice to what it’s like to live every day with something that most people can’t see... but that affects everything.

This isn’t a “vacation” the way people think of vacations.

It’s survival.

It’s strategic.

It’s filled with extra costs, accommodations, medical tools, and a huge amount of effort.... not just adventure, fun and leisure.

Even today, as I’m writing this, it’s 5:26 PM and all I’ve managed to do is move from my bed to the couch.

I took my medications and now I’m waiting for them to kick in before I can even shower.

I woke up around 3 PM ....because that’s my reality with chronic illness.

Not 8 AM coffee runs.

Not 9-to-5 workdays.

Not a life that moves easily from one task to the next.

My "day" starts when most people's workdays are ending.

It’s not laziness.

It’s not irresponsibility.

It’s fibromyalgia.

It’s a body that fights itself every single day.

So when you see a photo of me smiling and out and about, please remember:

I’m still carrying all of this.

I’m still fighting for a sense of normalcy.

I’m still managing fibromyalgia and chronic pain every hour of every day.

And I’ll keep documenting it...because awareness matters.

Because surviving doesn't mean you're healthy.

It just means you're strong enough to keep showing up.

This is reality for me.

This is traveling disabled.

This is living with fibromyalgia.

This is Kristen, Unfiltered- Xo 💋

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." -Psalm 73:26