How I Became a Family travel blogger Even Though Traveling Gives Me Anxiety
Meta Description:
An honest and relatable look at how I joined my husband’s travel blog—even though traveling gives me anxiety. From oversharing to parenting and finding peace in the present, this is our story behind Roam and Grow.
Oversharing Might Be My New Forte… So Here We Go Again
When Tim first came to me in February with his big idea—a travel blog—I laughed out loud and said, “No way!” I mean, I used Blogspot back when William was a baby, but that was just for family. More like a journal than broadcasting.
The thought of sharing my whole family with the internet? Overwhelming.
Don’t get me wrong—when I leave my home, I’m friendly and social. But at heart? I’m a homebody. The kind that only leaves when Tim gives me that charming smile and I cave. Now, am I efficient, organized, and practiced at traveling with my crew? Absolutely. I’ve got tips for days. But share those beyond my safe little circle? Nope. Honestly, if I ever thought we’d have a blog, I would’ve guessed it’d be about cooking or baking.
If you want the key to Tim’s heart, it’s these four things:
- His relationship with God
- His love for our family
- His love of food (and feeding others!)
- Seeing the world with the people he loves
And he really was prayerful about this blog idea, which made it a slightly easier pill to swallow. But still—I dragged my feet.
Strike One: I’m a Traveler Who Doesn’t Like to Travel
Around April, Tim finally said, “I need you to write some blog posts for me.”
My response? “Well then, they won’t be about traveling…” 😂
You see, I have just a little anxiety. And one of my biggest triggers? Traveling.
It’s a strange love-hate relationship. I adore seeing the world. I live for the experiences. There are very few trips I regret taking. But the anticipation beforehand? Nauseating.
Why Traveling Gives Me Anxiety (Even Though I Love It)
Traveling gives me anxiety for a lot of reasons.
First, it’s expensive. No matter how well we plan or budget, I always feel the weight of the cost—flights, hotels, meals, activities… it adds up fast. And then there’s the constant fear that I’m going to forget something important. Spoiler: I usually do.
If I’m traveling without my kids, I struggle to leave them. I miss them before I’ve even boarded the plane. But when they do come with me, I tend to be overprotective—constantly counting heads, managing moods, scanning for safety hazards. It’s exhausting!
And yet…
I absolutely love seeing the world through their eyes. Their joy over airplanes, cruise ships, sandy beaches—it’s infectious. I love watching them taste new desserts for the first time, trying to recreate them once we’re home. They’ve become little food critics with surprisingly refined opinions. 😄
The new, the exciting, the novel—they delight in it. And I delight in them.
So yes, travel makes me anxious. But it also fills me with joy. And maybe that’s just the complicated truth of motherhood: holding joy and anxiety in the same suitcase and hitting the road anyway.
Strike Two: Vulnerability Hangover Incoming
Yes, I overshare—but usually only with my safe people. My circle. The ones who love me no matter what. The idea of letting the whole world in on my chaos? Yikes.
I felt insecure. So vulnerable. I mean, I have seven kids. And if motherhood has taught me anything, it’s that every single person is unique. You can study human behavior all day long, but truly knowing someone takes time and effort.
The people who know me best are the ones who’ve shown up. Through health scares, hard times, and happy moments. Friends who call, text, bring meals, or just sit with my kids when I can’t. Others I haven’t seen in years, but when we talk, it’s like no time has passed. I have a cousin who sends me a card for every holiday—and even our anniversary! That’s love.
So, could I share that kind of connection—the love I feel from God and others—with the world? Maybe that’s what changed my mind. Maybe this was a way to give back, to use some of the gifts He’s given me… even if it’s just a little.
Strike Three: Can I Really Share My Kids?
I think my children are remarkable—talented, kind, and yes, sometimes even angelic. But I also wake up every morning. 😂 So yeah… they’re human.
And here’s the thing: I don’t like fake. I don’t like posing. I don’t sugarcoat. So, was I really ready to share the good, the bad, and the ugly?
Blogging and posting on social media regularly is no joke—it’s a full-time job. And it puts all of us—Tim, the kids, and me—front and center. No one knows our flaws, quirks, and “idiot-syncrasies” (as I lovingly call them) like we do.
And let’s be real… I’m about to raise four teenage girls. Do I really want to do that in public?! Some days I question if I even want to do that in private! But I do. I love them fiercely. Life is just… hard sometimes.
Strike Four: What If I Can’t Stay Healthy Enough?
This one’s the quiet fear. What if this turns into “The Saga of Poor Bonnie”? Please, no.
When my health dips, I retreat. I crawl into my hidey-hole and wait it out. Can I do that and still run a blog that’s about our life? Honestly… I don’t know.
At first, I really thought this blog was Tim’s thing. But as he poured his heart into it, he started asking for my support—genuinely. So I began to give it, slowly, begrudgingly. But now?
Now I’m his helper.
And last week? Hillary offered to help too. She’s 14 and said she’d write posts and help with reels and social media. Her exact words: “Anything to help.” I was touched. This really is turning into a family adventure.
Roam and Grow… Together
When we came up with the name Roam and Grow, I think Tim was just thinking about travel. But for me, the growing part matters just as much.
We’re growing. As individuals. As a family. We want to learn—not just about new places, but about the incredible people all around us. And you, reading this? You’re part of that.
We’re so humbled and grateful for your support.
Even though I still wrestle with anxiety, I’m learning to live in the now. A wise friend once told me:
Living in the future fills me with anxiety.
Living in the past leaves me disappointed or depressed.
Living in the present is where I find peace.
And she was right.
The present is where I can make choices. I can love. I can serve. I can create. I can become more like my Savior. And when I focus on that, everything else is worth it.
Perfectionism can take a back seat. I’ll let my Savior mold me instead.
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