The most recent instance I shed tears was at 6pm on February 8th. It happened right after I had put a load of laundry in the washing machine, in between picking up our cat from the vet and preparing dinner. At that moment, my laptop remained open, displaying the unfinished emails that I had intended to send earlier. This was during the time when I was packing for our upcoming 10-day ski trip to Hautes-Alpes. Despite the excitement of embarking on an 18-hour drive to our holiday rental, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread. My skiing abilities, far inferior to those of my teenage children, only added to my apprehension.
The anticipation of the journey, the early wake-up calls for scheduled “leisure activities,” the unpredictability of weather dictating our plans, the shortage of socks, and even dealing with minor inconveniences like constipation, all contributed to a sense of overwhelming anxiety rather than excitement.
Confessions were made as I poured out my feelings to my husband. I admitted that I derive little joy from what many consider “holidays” – periods of enforced enjoyment and a break from the usual routine. I found myself longing for the comfort of home, where I believed I could truly unwind.
To clarify, my ideal getaway would involve lounging by a pool in 25C weather, overlooking the sea, with attentive service and the option to socialize or enjoy solitude as I please. However, such vacations have never been my reality.
My aversion to holidays is not due to financial constraints or dissatisfaction with my family, whom I adore and enjoy spending time with. Rather, it’s the extended duration of holidays that overwhelms me.
Traveling with companions necessitates a high level of compromise and patience, qualities that are constantly tested throughout the year due to our differing preferences and routines. Coordinating activities around my husband’s extensive runs and my daughters’ preference for sleeping in, factoring in his frequent hydration breaks and their mandatory TV time, often feels like navigating a complex time-space continuum. It becomes apparent that I yearn for a break from constantly accommodating others.
My affinity for structure and meticulous planning often clashes with the spontaneity and flexibility demanded by vacations, leading to a sense of despair when I’m forced to deviate from my carefully crafted schedules. Even on days when everything falls seamlessly into place, I find myself preoccupied with anticipating the next obstacle or challenge.
The tensions that arise from conflicting desires and expectations during holidays are not unfamiliar to me. I have experienced enough vacation-induced conflicts to expect at least one heated argument, whether it be under the gaze of the Louvre’s “Winged Victory of Samothrace” or amidst the historic charm of Bologna.
Despite sounding inept at unwinding, I do cherish moments of solitude and relaxation. I excel at unwinding within predefined timeframes, including adhering to a reasonable bedtime. To me, a solid ten hours of sleep is the epitome of luxury, considering the draining nature of daily life and the added exhaustion brought on by vacations.
I often remind my husband of my need for adequate rest, especially when he suggests prolonging our evenings with extra drinks or engaging in deep discussions during late-night beach strolls. While my preferences may not align with his, I find solace in the ability to retire to bed without contention when at home.
Although my perspective on holidays may not be widely shared, it is not entirely uncommon. A study conducted by the Hilton hotel group in collaboration with OnePoll revealed that nearly half of Britons require more than two days to unwind during vacations, citing work-related stress and separation anxiety from pets as contributing factors. Additionally, a survey commissioned by British Airways and YouGov highlighted that 50% of working adults often forego their full annual leave entitlement. The concept of “leisure sickness,” as observed by Dutch psychologist Ad Vingerhoets, further underscores the challenges some adults face when transitioning from work to relaxation.
It is almost inevitable that I will receive a distressing work-related email during my time off, serving as a stark reminder of unresolved issues. Despite this, I find fulfillment in my work and thrive on the routine it provides. Unlike the common disdain for Mondays, I appreciate the structure they offer, allowing me to address any looming concerns before unwinding in the evening, whether it involves indulging in a Netflix binge or engaging in a reflective conversation over a nightcap.
Amidst my reservations about holidays, I did embark on the ski trip with my family. I took on responsibilities like driving and managing the music playlist during our journey, accompanied my children on challenging slopes, and settled into our temporary accommodation. Even as we returned home after the arduous 18-hour drive, it felt as though we had never left.
And yet, the monotony of seemingly purposeless bank holidays continues to wear on me.