From Silk Gowns to Swing Sets

Ciao Rosebuds,

In a world that seems to reward burnout and glorify busyness, self-care often gets boiled down to the occasional bath bomb or a 10-minute meditation app. Don’t get me wrong—I love a good lavender soak—but for me, real self-care looks like boarding a plane, stepping into a new rhythm, and remembering who I am when I’m not constantly on the clock.

I spent a month in southern Italy last year, and it shifted something deep inside me. Travel has always been my reset button, but this time, it became my healing space. Here’s why I believe travel is the ultimate form of self-care—and how it can be yours too.

Breaking Out of the Rut (and into Designer Gowns)

It’s easy to forget who you are when you’re caught up in the day-to-day. Life starts to feel like a loop: wake, work, repeat. That’s why one of the most powerful gifts of travel is disruption. Beautiful, soulful disruption.

One of my first days in Lecce, my sister and I were invited to a private fashion event hosted by a local designer. The venue oozed luxury—gilded interiors, champagne flutes, and flowing silk gowns we were encouraged to try on. It felt indulgent in the best way, like I had permission to play again. At one point, I was chatting with the wife of an ambassador, and she casually shared, “Italian women pride themselves on being fashionable.” That moment stayed with me. She was very Italian.

Somewhere along the way, I’d let go of fashion—too impractical, too frivolous. But that night reminded me that beauty is also self-expression. Sometimes, being surrounded by beautiful people in beautiful clothes doesn’t feel shallow—it feels like celebration.

Ask yourself: When’s the last time you let yourself feel extravagant just because?

Moving to Heal: My Daily Dose of Parco di Belloluogo

Travel can be medicine for the mind—but let’s not forget the body. In Lecce, my daily walks through Parco di Belloluogo became a grounding ritual. The path to the park took me past three flower shops—fragrant, colorful, mood-lifting stops before I even broke a sweat. The park itself? Picture a small medieval castle with a moat, fruiting trees, and bursts of wildflowers around every bend.

I felt like I had stumbled into a fairytale, and by week two, I was a regular. I’d swing on the playground swings, stretch at the exercise stations, and breathe a little deeper every time. No pressure to perform. Just movement, air, and that subtle joy of feeling like a local—even if just for a moment.

Rest Is a Ritual: Café Culture, Italian Style

My favorite spot to slow down? Caffè Palmieri, tucked beside Porto Napoli, one of Lecce’s grand old gates into the historic city center. From that vantage point, I’d sip an espresso in the morning or enjoy a spritz in the late afternoon, watching life unfold around me, local teens chatting on bikes, elders deep in conversation, tourists pausing to admire the fortified stone walls and ancient cobbled streets.

That corner of the city taught me something essential: Rest doesn’t have to be earned—it can simply be. The ritual of sitting still, being present, and letting time pass without urgency was, in its own way, revolutionary.

Ask yourself: What would it feel like to sit still without guilt?

Connection Is Healing: Music, Wine & Shared Tables

Some of the most soul-nourishing parts of travel are the people you meet along the way. My sister’s circle of friends, an eclectic mix of locals and expats, welcomed me like I was one of their own. Language barriers melted under the warmth of shared meals, laughter, and music that played long into the night.

There were music festivals (Salento is nicknamed “Little Jamaica”), birthday parties, beach days with salty hair and sandy toes, and family style dinner parties that always ended with someone playing DJ and someone else topping off your wine glass. It wasn’t about extravagance. It was about community. Being seen, celebrated, and included—exactly as you are.

Ask yourself: When was the last time you let yourself be held by a community, even temporarily?

Moments That Travel Back With You

Here’s what I know for sure: Travel doesn’t end when the trip does. I often catch myself daydreaming, not just about Italy, but about Portugal’s tiled streets, Bali’s jungle air, or the electric food markets of Thailand. These are my mental mini-vacations, my secret stash of joy.

Travel is my happy place. It’s the place I go to remember that I am so much more than my roles or my routines. It reminds me that wonder, spontaneity, and connection are not luxuries—they are necessities.

Ready to Make Space for You Again?

If you’ve been running on empty, this is your reminder: you don’t have to wait for burnout to book a break. Travel, done intentionally, can be a gentle but powerful act of self-respect. It’s how we return to ourselves.

Whether you’re dreaming of a solo retreat, a girlfriends’ reset, or a luxurious “just because” escape, I’d be honored to help you curate your own self-care journey. You deserve the silk gowns and the swing set. You deserve the espresso and the spritz. You deserve to feel like yourself again.

Saluti!