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Facing the Truth About Traveling as a Young Disabled Woman

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Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had a deep craving for travel. It should have come as no surprise — my mother would constantly talk about the aches she would feel in the core of her stomach when watching Stacey Dooley shows or reading books set in an idyllic French summer.

She described it as a gnawing, a pain she couldn’t quite soothe. My grandmother was nicknamed “Gypsy” by family members and friends, as she could never stay in one place for very long.

Even after losing her tongue and teeth to cancer, she still manages to talk excitedly about a new trip in her travel brochure.

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