I Went on a Girls Trip With My Mom, It Forced Me to Relax & Slow Down

I’ve always considered myself to be a hustler, since my first lemonade stand, in fact.

Growing up in New York, I was raised on a mentality that in order to live the life you dream, the work ethic has to match. That idea followed me through undergrad, then law school, then a career, mostly in travel writing, that practically runs on coffee and momentum. I constantly live a life on go-mode.

It’s probably why when people find out how much I travel for work and in my personal life, they assume I love it. It’s my natural way of being. And I do, mostly. I’m the one who scours TikTok, Google Reviews, and travel sites to ensure that I’m able to perfectly curate my itinerary from the moment I step foot off the plane, train, or automobile.

But in this season of life, as I’m navigating personal and professional life changes, I’ve learned that rest can’t be my reward. So I wanted to try something new: see what happens when there’s nothing to plan. And so I did just that.

How I created rest during travel

This past Mother’s Day, I took my mom to Grenada. There was no spreadsheet, no color-coded schedule with a long list of plans and things to do (my mom hates that anyway), and nowhere for us to be. We had our flights, a hotel, and an intention to show up and figure it out. For someone like me, that last part was harder than it sounds — believe me.

We stayed at The Beach House at Silver Sands, and I think the property did half the work for me. Tucked away on the southwest coast of the island, it doesn’t have the sprawling amenities, a packed pool bar or an activity desk of a mega-resort that’s trying to curate every second of your trip. Still, it was just what we both needed — quiet, a stretch of beach that felt like it belonged to just us, comfort, and luxury.

The property itself is small by design, and ours was only one of 28 rooms and suites. When we walked into our king room, which featured wide windows and a private canopied terrace, we were stunned. The room sat on Portici Beach, which is framed by a stone bluff and water that shifts between shades of blue depending on the hour.

There’s also a main infinity pool that we had access to, a spa (at the sister property, Silversands Grand Anse, which we gladly enjoyed one day), kayaks, and beach yoga if we felt so inclined. The options existed, but we didn’t feel pressure to partake in them one way or another.

For the first day, I won’t pretend I wasn’t restless. I kept reaching for my phone to look something up, to find the “best” local spot, and who I knew on the island. Old habits die hard, is what they say, right?

For example, the woman who sat next to me on the plane — a stranger — informed me that a mutual friend was also on the island celebrating their birthday that weekend. They were hosting a themed party, to which she invited us to join, along with a list of activities to participate in while we would be there. My mom, who has watched me operate at this pace my entire life, just looked at me and said, essentially, stop.

So I did. Spoiler alert: I also skipped the party.

By day two, we were in our groove. We ate when we were hungry. We sat on the beach without a plan to leave it. One afternoon we ventured out to Port Louis Marina for lunch at Chez Louis, which felt like exactly the right amount of outside world. A good meal, a change of scenery, and then back to the quiet that Beach House offered. That ratio ended up being the whole trip in miniature.

I worked out every morning, either at the outdoor gym on the beach or over at the main Silversands property, which has more equipment. I’m training for HYROX, so completely switching off for that was never really on the table, and I didn’t try to force it. What I noticed was that the workouts felt different there, less obligatory and more like something I actually wanted to do because they weren’t rushed or had to fit within a schedule.

We had dinner one night at Grenadian Grill, where the coastal cuisine matched the unhurried pace we’d finally settled into. But honestly, the food was secondary. My mom lives in New York and I’m in Maryland, so we just enjoyed catching up for girl time with zero distractions because that seems to be what is always the first thing that gets sacrificed when life picks up speed (on my end, not hers as a retiree, of course).

I removed the pressure to perform on vacation

I’ve taken a lot of trips. I’ve seen a lot of places, but I can’t say I’ve always allowed myself to fully be where I was. Grenada was different.

We all know the travel industry sells rest as a product. And the products are really good most of the time, really, really good actually: a spa package, a swim-up suite or butler service. I’m not going to say, I don’t love all of those things. But what I found was that rest isn’t really something a hotel gives you, it’s something you have to decide to receive. The hotel’s seclusion removed the temptation to keep moving and the simplicity of Grenadian life removed the pressure to perform a vacation for anyone, including myself.

I came back to Maryland without a single TikTok video or restaurant video saved for a future trip to Grenada (I scrolled and moved on, folks). Just some photos of my mom and I laughing having a good time on what I hope is many more girls trips to come.

I’m still a hustler, by all means. That’s not going anywhere anytime soon, even despite no longer living in “the concrete jungle.” But I understand now that rest isn’t the opposite of ambition. You need it as part of the infrastructure. And sometimes all it takes is a secluded beach in Grenada, your mother telling you —sternly, I might add — to put the phone down, and a place that’s quiet enough to let you hear yourself think.