Member-only story
I Don't Like Traveling, and That's Okay
What happened when I finally admitted I’d rather just stay home
1. Miserable on Vacation
Last year, I took a trip to Bali. On paper, it was a dream vacation. In reality, I spent the third day sitting in a café, staring at my phone, and counting down the hours until my flight back.
I was hot, tired, and stressed about the bad Wi-Fi. My stomach hurt from the food, and my bed at the hotel was uncomfortable.
It felt embarrassing to admit, but I wasn't having fun. I didn't hate Bali—Bali was pretty. I just hated traveling. I hated packing, waiting in airports, losing sleep, and feeling like I was supposed to be having a life-changing experience every hour of the day.
Buying the fantasy
For years, I told everyone I loved the idea of travel. I saved destination photos online and talked about places I wanted to see.
Social media makes it seem like getting on a plane is the only way to be an interesting person. If you’re always flying somewhere new, you seem adventurous. If you like staying in your own apartment on a Sunday, people act like you’re wasting your life.
The truth was simple: I didn’t actually want to travel. I just liked the idea of being seen as someone who does.
