Accessibility Is the New Luxury Status

What is your "why?"

When we ask ourselves or each other different questions and attempt to dig deeper for meaning, we often arrive at the question of "why?" It's a question in every success story, interview, podcast, or moment of curiosity.

Why was accessibility suddenly so meaningful to me?

When I sat down to think about it, I initially thought it was one specific thing, but realized it was a collection of experiences.

This was going to take me back to the ICU again.

There was one patient, an older gentleman, who would frequently come to the ICU. He was on a respirator (breathing machine) 24/7, so any time he was hospitalized, he would have to come to us. Still, he always had something to be cheerful about and a few jokes up his sleeve that he would toss around to brighten the day. His wife was also very kind, and although she had been caring for him for years, she still had her spark.

They were affluent travelers before his illness, but that didn't stop them. They followed proper protocols, received the necessary education, and hired a nurse any time they wanted to travel. A respirator didn't stop them from continuing to experience the world. Maintaining quality of life mattered more, and that became their return on investment.

When my mother was diagnosed with dementia, so many things changed so quickly. In just months, she could no longer drive, and her independence was quickly being chipped away. Through the hard times and the declines, we too had to manage what maintaining quality of life looked like.

In many circumstances, she was a childlike wanderer and busybody. Interestingly enough, she sat through a play at Sight & Sound, still enjoyed New York City and Alvin Ailey performances, went to the movie theater and watched an entire movie, and remained present for family gatherings, important milestones, and her grandchildren's recitals.

We will never know what she was thinking or wanted to say, but I can say she continued to do the things she loved with the people she loved.

More and more, I started collecting stories that added to my "why."

The experience that really pushed me into brainstorming was the period of time I spent working at a luxury retirement community in its long-term care facility.

After my mother passed away, I needed something to do and some extra income. I decided to take a position as the night shift nursing supervisor. During my downtime, I built my website for ThetravelingTrendie, learned how to code, crammed in travel education modules, listened to business education podcasts, and focused on anything and everything travel.

Something unexpected happened in the process. I found I was needed for a task that wasn't on the job description.

Hope.

Time after time, I found myself in rooms building patients up when grief, a difficult diagnosis, or a setback knocked them down. You would be surprised to know how many people, given the opportunity, want to talk between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m.

These were former doctors, lawyers, professors, bookkeepers, homemakers, founders and CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, authors, artists, and more. All with their own stories, and many just looking for someone to pull up a chair and listen.

One common theme that always came up was travel.

Each story was different. Different travel styles, different destinations, different reasons why. Together, they made up this beautiful collection of stories I had the pleasure and honor of receiving. Along with the occasional, "Whoa, you were there for that?!"

While I watched eyes light up and heard voices change in pitch, there was also a resonance that lasted. A remembrance of the good days and memories mixed with the current reality and the belief that certain experiences were now limited or no longer possible.

Many believed that changes in their age, health, or mobility meant they would no longer be able to travel. For some, that may have been true. Yet for others, travel was not necessarily out of reach. They may simply have needed education, support, appropriate resources, and an understanding of what was still possible for them to travel safely.

Quality of life changes over time, and so do our needs. What once required little thought or preparation may eventually require careful planning, additional assistance, or a different approach altogether. That doesn't mean the desire to experience the world disappears. It means the way we make those experiences possible may need to change.

I began to recognize that accessibility was not simply about accommodating a limitation. It was also about protecting quality of life, preserving opportunities for meaningful experiences, and helping people continue doing what they love with the appropriate safety and support in place.

When I began working at the retirement community in November 2024, I hadn't anticipated how much those conversations would influence the business I was building during my overnight shifts. The more I listened, the more I began questioning what travel could look like for people whose circumstances had changed. I didn't have all the answers, but I was becoming increasingly curious about what was possible with the right knowledge, resources, and support.

In May 2025, I attended the Women in Travel Summit (WITS), where a panel discussion on accessibility gave me another perspective to consider. One of the speakers was Quemuel "Q" Arroyo, Chief Accessibility Officer for New York City's Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA). During the discussion, he made a statement that stayed with me: "I may be disabled, but my money isn't."

He also spoke about the importance of decoupling accessibility from disability. That distinction resonated with me. Accessibility is often discussed almost exclusively in relation to disability, yet its relevance extends to aging, temporary injuries, changing mobility, and circumstances that can affect how people navigate and experience the world. Disability remains an essential part of the conversation, but it is not the only reason someone may benefit from accessible environments and services.

I had noticed something else in the travel industry. Bring up accessibility, and sometimes people seem to shrink back. Conversations become hesitant, rooms grow quiet, and what should be an opportunity to ask questions and learn can suddenly feel intimidating. I understood that there were complexities involved, but I also wondered why the subject itself seemed to create so much discomfort.

That panel discussion didn't make me an accessibility expert, nor did it eliminate the need for specialized knowledge. What it did was give me the confidence to begin exploring how I could become better prepared to serve travelers with different needs. I wanted accessibility to be something I was mindful of within my business model, supported by education, knowledgeable industry partners, and the confidence to have conversations rather than avoid them.

I began having those conversations with my destination partners. One of the first was Safaraz, my partner for India and Nepal. To my surprise, he had already successfully organized a tour in Nepal for a group of travelers who used wheelchairs. He had also accommodated families and groups traveling with one or multiple individuals who had accessibility needs. I was excited and reassured, not simply because he had experience, but because the willingness to consider these travelers' needs and find ways to support them was already there.

I had a similar conversation with Siham, my destination management partner in Morocco. She shared that she, too, had successfully accommodated travelers with different accessibility needs in the past. Once again, I found someone whose approach aligned with what I hoped to develop within my own business.

These conversations didn't mean that every destination, property, or experience could accommodate every traveler. They did, however, challenge the assumption that accessibility was automatically beyond the scope of the travel experiences I wanted to offer. There were people within my own network who had already been doing this work, and I had an opportunity to learn from them while also contributing my own insights.

Now, consider how we approach a high-end luxury client. Someone who has particular expectations for their accommodations, transportation, dining experiences, and activities. We take the time to understand their preferences, communicate with our partners, verify arrangements, and anticipate needs before they arrive. We may arrange private airport assistance, specialized transportation, particular room configurations, or experiences tailored to their interests and comfort. We call it personalization, exceptional service, or the VIP experience.

Now consider a traveler with accessibility needs. They, too, may require a particular room configuration, specialized transportation, assistance at the airport, carefully selected excursions, or dining arrangements that meet their individual needs. We still need to ask thoughtful questions, communicate with our partners, verify arrangements, and anticipate potential challenges before they arrive.

The requirements may differ, but much of the approach is remarkably similar. Both travelers benefit from individualized attention, thoughtful preparation, reliable coordination, and a professional who understands that the smallest details can make the greatest difference.

Yet somewhere along the way, we began treating one as an opportunity to deliver exceptional hospitality and the other as a challenge that might be too complicated to accommodate.

Why?

Of course, accessibility can involve considerations that extend beyond personal preferences. A wheelchair-accessible vehicle, a properly configured bathroom, or equipment necessary for someone's safety cannot simply be substituted with a more luxurious alternative. Some requirements are essential to whether a traveler can safely and meaningfully participate at all. Those distinctions deserve specialized knowledge, accurate information, and appropriate professional support.

That is precisely why I believe we should be having these conversations rather than avoiding them. If we are willing to invest time, creativity, and resources into meeting the highly individualized expectations of luxury travelers, shouldn't we bring that same commitment to understanding the needs of travelers who require accessibility support?

Perhaps the question isn't whether accessibility belongs in luxury travel. Perhaps we should be asking why we ever considered it separate from exceptional hospitality.

Have you ever avoided, canceled, postponed, or reconsidered a trip because you were uncertain whether your accessibility needs, or those of someone traveling with you, could be safely accommodated? Perhaps changes in health, age, or mobility made a journey that once seemed simple feel out of reach.

What if the question wasn't whether you could still travel, but what knowledge, resources, and support might make it possible?

I'd love to hear your experiences and perspectives. Sometimes the conversations we're hesitant to have are the very ones that open the door to possibilities we hadn't considered.