It’s day six of our much awaited Bali holiday and I’m sitting at a silent breakfast table with my family, taking in the beautiful views of our garden villas while trying not cry.
My husband seems completely engrossed in tour brochures, or news reports on his mobile, and every now and then my daughter, who is skulking because I’m forcing her to eat a plate of fruit instead of the chocolate croissants she’s had every other day, nudges me and gives me a disapproving stare as I get caught up listening to the happy conversations at the surrounding tables of the other couples, young and old, and wonder why our table is not like theirs.
Is it just me, or do holidays actually bring out the worst in relationships?
There was so much excitement and kinship in the lead up. We counted down the days together, sent hump day texts reminding each other that excitement was on the horizon! After all, what wasn’t there to love? No work deadlines or office blues, no daily bills in your letterbox to worry about, no social or family commitments to juggle between our busy work schedules, just sunshine, relaxation and pure joy…
It should be easy, it’s what we work so hard for and spend our lunch breaks daydreaming about, and yet every time our meticulously-planned holiday comes around I’m left feeling lonely.
I think I have a relatively good marriage. 20 years we’ve been going at it, raising kids, juggling expectations, compromising where necessary, but there has still been plenty of laughter, passion, shared visions and dreams.