The Pressure to “Make the Most of It”
Wet Roman cobblestones + graffiti = still charming. Photo by Quinn Corte, 2025.
I recently got back from Rome. My husband went for work, and the stars and credit card points aligned so I could join him. Romantic fantasies ensued of a glamorous Italian vacation, eating gelato on sunny terraces.
It didn't go exactly how I pictured it.
One highlight was that our colleague arranged a cool behind-the-scenes meeting at the Vatican Museum labs. We got to see Italian conservators assembling a mosaic like a massive jigsaw puzzle, restoring enormous paintings, and cleaning ancient marble sculptures with lasers.
I did get to buy a chic new seafoam green Italian bag and hot-girl sunglasses. We went on long walks around Trastevere, taking in the sparkly, vine-covered alleys and sprawling mythological fountains. We took silly photos and laughed a lot.
And also. It was freezing cold and poured rain for days. Our pillows were like bricks. The three days it was actually sunny, I was confined to the hotel bed with a horrific migraine. I couldn’t risk a gelato. And I was gagging on plumes cigarette smoke everywhere I went (I'm allergic).
I know…poor me, right?
Here’s my confession, though. I always struggle with vacation-pressure. Sometimes it's a gap between expectations and reality. Or it manifests as a small, panicky voice that gets louder as the trip progresses. It asks things like, “are we doing enough?” or “is this the best possible restaurant or should we keep looking? “ or “are we having enough fun?!” Lordy.
Especially when I don’t have a lot of time off, I’m going somewhere special, or I’m spending a lot of money, there can be a lot of pressure to “make the most of it.”
I even notice vacation-pressure when I go on my little solo retreats. The first day often feels stressful because I’ve been rushing to wrap up work and travel, and then suddenly I’m in a beautiful place, alone with my thoughts and feelings, and (surprise!) I do not feel immediately blissful. The clock has started and my time off is running out. “Hurry up and relax!!” the voice yells hysterically.
Oh, and here’s the other way vacation-pressure haunts me. When the vacation is really awesome, I start getting depressed days before it’s time to go. Sometimes, as a kid I would cry right after the trip started, bereft that it was temporary.
Vacation can be SO tragic.
~
The way I experience vacation-pressure is very similar to how I experience life-pressure.
I have big dreams and high standards for how I want my life (vacation) to go, and I often take it hard when reality misses the mark.
I feel a constant low-level panic that life (vacation) is fleeting, and worry that I won’t get to experience everything I want to.
When life (vacation) is going well, I often get caught up in thoughts of “this won’t last,” instead of staying contentedly present.
In other words, vacation brings out my same ol’ tired stories that “I’m not doing enough.” I suppose wherever we go, there we are.
If you’re taking time off during the holidays, I invite you to notice if you have your own flavor of vacation-pressure.
What goes on in your head? Maybe it’s a resentment that you’re always in charge of making plans or meals. Maybe it’s a preoccupation with work or a restless relationship with leisure. Whatever it looks like, maybe your vacation-pressure is a helpful window into what could use some healing.
In Rome, I was able to let go of the pressure quicker than usual. I released my attachment to the idyllic version of vacation and tried to see it as a bonus trip that was full of surprises. I tried to curb my complaints about the rain and hoards of smokers, and focus on the charm (which was abundant). And when I noticed myself getting bratty, I tried to figure out what I actually needed, instead of sulking.
Most of all, I soaked up the unexpected memories, like nuzzling against my husband as we shared a too-small umbrella, getting soaked along the Tiber during twilight.
Life (and vacation) isn’t predictable, controllable, or permanent. But that’s what makes it fun.
Right???
Your turn:
What pressure or complaints run through your head during vacation?
How is that the same as (or different from) your everyday inner monologue?
What holiday expectations can you trade in for a less idyllic (but more whimsical) reality?