I’ve been thinking about Bali for the longest time. But for some reason, I’ve found it difficult to process it enough to get the words from my head down onto paper.
Its beauty was incredible… so much so that I wasn’t sure I could ever capture it properly. Maybe that’s what stopped me.
Bali is one of those places where everyone has an opinion. It’s on the corner of everyone’s tongue. Instagram has seen it. TikTok has spun it. Everyone thinks they know it.
And if you’re not careful, you can end up seeing it through everyone else’s lens but your own.
I was conscious of that.
I mean… if you go on YouTube, you’ll find thousands of videos that either give you the aesthetic, the heal-me version… you know them ones lol. Or the complete opposite, where they show huge crowds that have overtaken this wondrous island and somehow managed to turn it into a version of Benidorm.
I obviously didn’t want any of that. No noise.
I just wanted to see it through my small magnifying glass of Suitcases and Stories.
And did I?
I absolutely tried.
There were moments… I won’t lie… where I felt pulled into the Instagram world. Just for a second. The “hey, look at me” energy. Perfectly timed shots that look like they’re snapped by accident, but you know it took 60 times over. Ha!
But the longer I was there, the less interested I became in any of that.
Between the crickets in the early morning. The most unreal sunrise as I stepped onto that balcony. And the warm rain hitting my head heavy mid-walk.
I stopped thinking about what Bali should be to me and just completely surrendered to my surroundings.
As I’m writing this, I’m like… that sounds saft. Lol. But it’s true. And you know, I’m not sure whether it does that for everyone. Maybe it was just what I needed from this little island, and when I allowed myself to feel it… that’s what it produced.
And you know what? Bali didn’t just give something to me.
It gave something to all of us. Individually.
And that’s when I realised Bali had given each of us something completely different.
My Daughter
For my daughter, Bali gave confidence.
And if you know… you know how big that sentence is.
When we travel, she naturally leans on us a little more. We’re her familiarity when everything else is unfamiliar, so some of the independence and confidence she has at home can disappear a little. But strangely, in Bali, that didn’t happen.
Especially Ubud… wow.
It wasn’t loud or pushy. She could just do her without worrying that she should behave differently to fit into a box.
I watched her try things I didn’t expect. Initiate more. Move more freely. Lean into experiences instead of retreating from them.
And then one morning at breakfast, casually, like she was commenting on the weather, she said:
“Mom… I could live here.”
For anyone who has someone on the spectrum in their life… you know how big that is.
My daughter loves holidays.
But her home is her safe space.
So for her to say Bali could be that?
That meant everything.
Bali became her safe space too.
My Son
Listen, my son is not an overly emotional person, and he definitely doesn’t become emotionally attached to places in the same way I do.
But what I observed was that he saw himself there.
His faith was accessible. His food was everywhere. His passion for MMA was literally on every corner.
He saw gyms. He saw discipline. He saw young men building something for themselves. He saw a world where someone with drive could create their own path.
I often talk about my perspective on how much our environment can have an impact on our personal growth.
And to be honest… with my son, I watched this happen in real time.
For that short period of time, he didn’t just see the potential of Bali. He lived it.
Jumping on a Gojek to train. Waking up at ridiculous hours because the sunrise was too good not to share. Knocking on our door at 6am like, “You need to see this.”
And anyone with a 16-year-old boy knows…
If he’s voluntarily waking up at 6am on holiday?
That means something.
Do you know… I wouldn’t say Bali changed him.
But I did witness just how much it fit him.
My Husband
Then there’s my husband.
I’ve watched that man rise and fall for 21 years.
I’ve seen the ambition. The pressure. The drive to keep going even when things are heavy.
In Bali, I watched his shoulders drop.
Night by night.
His mind almost stopped racing with the million tasks he must do. I guess he was simply present.
With us and with himself.
And looking at him… looking at my whole family… seeing each of us soften in our own way…
That’s when I knew.
Bali wasn’t just a really bloody fun trip (although it absolutely was that too).
It wasn’t about the hyped, Instagrammy things.
It connected with each of us differently.
And that… that brought us closer together as a family.
Uluwatu
And then we got to our last few nights.
Takeout on the outdoor dining table. Beers… a Bluetooth speaker and… just us.
And in that moment, the conversation landed in the same place without any of us forcing it.
“This works for us.”
Not just a holiday bubble.
It was grounded, practical and just made sense.
We all felt it.
We will be back.
And one day…
Maybe it could be home.
Because quite frankly… it met every one of us exactly where we were.
Holidays can often just simply be holidays. You go there. Soak up the sun. Make some special memories and wish you could go back.
But very rarely… does a place just fit.
Bali fit us.
And once you’ve experienced that… you can’t just throw it away.
You carry it.
We know it’s there.
And it’s ours to take when we’re ready.
Zo. X
More from Bali coming soon. I’ll be sharing how we planned the trip, where we stayed, what we spent and the experiences that made it unforgettable.
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