Likely Normal

Vacations—those magical weeks where you escape the stresses of daily life only to realize your emotional baggage packed itself in your carry-on. Nothing brings buried issues to the surface like being trapped in a timeshare with your family or realizing three days into a romantic getaway that you and your partner have very different definitions of relaxing. You wanted piña coladas and sunsets; instead, you’re getting passive-aggressive debates about why no one ever helps with the dishes, even though you’re currently 2,000 miles from your kitchen.

The resort is beautiful, the weather is perfect, and suddenly—bam—you’re revisiting that argument from 2019 about who was supposed to call the plumber. The same relatives who never have time for a phone call at home now have hours of unresolved grievances to unpack between snorkeling trips. That friend you travel well with? Turns out you only “travel well” when there’s an easy exit strategy—not when you’re sharing a cruise ship cabin the size of a shoebox.

Even your body joins the rebellion. That knee you haven’t thought about in years? It picks your hiking vacation to stage a protest. Your stomach, normally steel-lined, suddenly develops the fragility of a soap bubble when faced with authentic local cuisine. You came for adventure; your digestive system has other plans.

By day three, you’ve accepted the truth: vacations aren’t escapes from your problems—they’re just new locations for the same old dramas, now with better scenery. The silver lining? At least when you finally hash it all out, you can do it poolside with a margarita in hand.