• Living abroad with only what fits in a carry-on has changed my definition of "enough."
• I no longer buy "just in case" stuff that rarely gets used, and I've found joy in a simple wardrobe.
• Ironically, the more I appreciate the things we own, the less attached I've become to them.

I'll admit it: I love shopping and the thrill of getting something new.

But ever since my husband and I started doing extended stays in Paris and other cities throughout Europe, I've surprised myself with how little I actually need.

We never check luggage because it's such a hassle, so whenever we get home after living out of carry-on suitcases for three months, I'll look around our apartment, open my closet, and think, "Wow, I forgot about most of this stuff."

Even though I'm a lifelong declutterer and keep our space tidy and organized, I've come to realize that getting by with only what fits in a carry-on has changed my definition of "enough."

Having fewer clothes makes getting dressed easier

It's kind of ironic that going to Paris, the fashion capital of the world, is where I've ended up with the smallest wardrobe. But as it turns out, having fewer options saves me a lot of mental energy and has made me more creative and intentional about what I wear.

I pack versatile pieces that work together so I can mix and match, rewear the same few pairs of pants, and do laundry every week. Even winter trips, when I have to pack bulkier clothes, have proven that I can get by with much less than I ever thought possible.

I have dozens of sweaters at home since I'm a bit of a collector, but all I really need are just a few Quince cashmere fisherman turtlenecks.

I also love jewelry, hats, and sunglasses, and usually have multiple options based on my mood. But being away for months at a time has made me realize that I'm perfectly fine with having just a few accessories to rotate through.

Whenever I get back from one of our trips, I end up editing my closet because I realize there's so much I don't wear. Yes, it's nice to have all my clothes and accessories, but it also gets easier each time to give stuff away to friends, family, neighbors, or donation centers.

I've stopped buying so many 'just in case' items

It's easy to imagine all sorts of scenarios where I might need certain things, especially when traveling. (Should I pack a pair of heels in case we go to an ultra-fancy dinner? Or what if I suddenly need that scarf I haven't worn in five years?)

News flash: I've never needed something I didn't pack. It's a lesson that has made me less likely to shop on impulse.

I still love going on a T.J. Maxx run and filling up a cart while browsing my favorite sites. However, before I make a purchase, I ask myself if it's something I'll genuinely use or just something that I might hypothetically need one day.

If it doesn't pass the reality check, I don't buy it.

I'm much more thoughtful about what I bring into our apartment

Because we're on the move so much, being at home feels even more comforting. I love that our space is decorated with objects that spark joy, but over the last few years, I've become less interested in accumulating stuff.

Instead, I find myself appreciating what we already have — from our shelves full of books and framed photos of our family and travels to my houseplants that our wonderful neighbors take care of while we're away.

Funnily enough, though, the more I appreciate the things we own, the less attached I've become to most of them. I don't even feel much of an urge to buy things for our apartment because I know we'll be leaving again soon.

Having more options doesn't necessarily make life better

Whether it's my wardrobe, household items, or even food, I've realized I don't need endless options. Like, do I really need 12 types of tea in my cupboard at any given moment? Often, I'm fine with just a few bags of my go-to blends.

Traveling with just a carry-on has made me realize that day to day, I tend to stick to my core favorites and don't really need a million choices for everything. I get plenty of variety when I'm out exploring.

At home, I'm happy to keep things simple and enjoy what I already have. That's more than enough for me.

• My husband and I took my 75-year-old mom to Croatia, Montenegro, and Bosnia and Herzegovina.
• During the two-week trip, I had to make some adjustments to my typical travel style.
• Overall, though, my mom really impressed me and I was surprised by what she could handle.

"I want to go to Montenegro," my mom told me over the phone. She was back home in Chicago, and I was in France, where my husband and I had moved three years earlier.

It wasn't entirely surprising. Since we moved abroad, my mom has been eager to travel more. But Montenegro? The idea felt a little random, which made it all the more intriguing.

Turns out she'd spotted a video of the country on Facebook, likely on one of the Polish-language pages she follows.

I was excited to share another adventure with her, especially one she'd chosen. And if we were going that far, I figured we may as well see more of the region.

After all, I'm a travel blogger and journalist, and my mom has become increasingly interested in seeing what I do and experiencing firsthand what I enjoy so much about travel.

She'd visited us a few times since we moved to France, but the Balkans would be a bigger adventure.

I planned for my husband and me to take her to three countries (Croatia, Montenegro, and Bosnia and Herzegovina) over two weeks. This meant navigating border crossings outside the European Union, handling several layers of logistics, and creating a plan that would work for my mom, who would turn 75 on the trip.

I knew my usual travel pace wasn't going to work for this trip, so we had to plan ahead

My husband and I are active travelers. We regularly rack up 20,000-step days, love a hike to a panoramic viewpoint, and push through heat and discomfort because we're of the "We may never come back here" mindset. Whenever we can, we also take public transit.

My mom travels differently. She spent 40 years as a server, so she's no stranger to being on her feet and is generally in good health, but retirement has slowed her down.

Even on her most active days, she moves at a gentler pace. Hills are particularly challenging, and long stretches of walking, especially on uneven surfaces, can catch up with her.

Before booking accommodations or transportation, I considered the physical demands of each day. I checked elevation changes for walks between hotels and the places we wanted to visit, looked for ways to avoid unnecessary uphill treks, and ruled out extra-long guided tours.

I also hired private drivers ahead of time to give us more flexibility. This way, we could tailor the stops to our needs rather than follow a big group's schedule, including when we stopped, where we were dropped off, and how long we stayed.

We made small adjustments throughout to ensure my mom was comfortable

We started with three easy nights in Dubrovnik, Croatia. During our stay, we explored the popular Croatian city's Old Town and lingered over meals of fresh fish. We spent a lot of time in the pool, since I learned my mom has far more energy in the water than on land.

After that, we were driven into Montenegro, where we learned the importance of rest. On a hot day in Perast, she loved the short boat ride to the man-made island, Our Lady of the Rocks.

But by midday, the heat had made us all a little testy. Ice cream helped, but the real fix was learning to schedule breaks before we reached the point of needing them.

My husband and I usually take a late-afternoon break rather than staying out until dinner anyway. With my mom, we just moved it up a few hours. She never asked us to accommodate her, but I learned to tell when she needed one.

Sometimes, the best adjustment was giving ourselves permission to split up. In the Old Town of Kotor, Montenegro, which was walking distance from our base in Dobrota, my husband and I hiked up to the Kotor Fortress while she stayed behind to rest and feed the cat that adopted us for our three-day stay.

When we got back, she was ready to go, and we spent a few hours exploring together.

Our next leg of the trip was to Bosnia and Herzegovina, which included a four-hour stretch of winding mountain roads that left all of us feeling a little green — my mom most of all. This is where a private driver really paid off.

He pulled over so she could get some air and rest, waited without complaint or worry that we were on a tight schedule, and let her ride up front the rest of the drive.

On a big bus, she likely would have had to suffer through it.

By the end of the trip, I was surprised by what she could handle

Our group of three felt almost like a well-oiled machine by our last stop to Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. At this point, I knew what worked and what didn't. Steep hills were a no-go. Long car rides were hard and great to avoid, when possible. She could handle a full day if we built in breaks.

In Sarajevo, we took several guided tours to learn about the city's history and war. My mom had lived through hardship herself in Poland before immigrating to the U.S. in the 1980s, so I wasn't sure how she'd react to heavier subjects. She was fascinated.

During the siege, a narrow tunnel — known as the Tunnel of Hope — was dug under the airport to move food, supplies, and people. Today, you can walk through a short restored section. I assumed she'd wait outside, but she walked right through.

That's what I learned most from traveling with my mom. I couldn't assume what she could or couldn't do. Instead, I simply had to pay attention.

She didn't need me to plan a completely different trip. She needed me to understand that her version of a good travel day looked a little different from mine, and that it can be just as full.