My Facebook feed is crammed with endless photos of people on holidays together. Literally every second post is a selfie of friends posing in some out-of-town locale: Paris, London, Hunter Valley, Perisher …
It disturbs me.
Oh, it’s not the fact they’re on a holiday that bothers me … lucky them! It’s that they’re on holidays with friends.
There’s an endless parade of mothers’ group weekends away, mates’ road trips, bestie tropical escapes and school mum mates off skiing together and … I’ve never done any of those things.
Before you think poor Alana – the thought of spending more than a few hours in close proximity with the same human beings terrifies me.
It’s not that I don’t like human beings. I do. Most of them are bulk fun.
But my weird version of introvert/extrovert means I can only do the social thing in short bursts. On a bad day, an hour of group chitter chat can feel like a century.
The energy required to spend long stretches of time with people means I don’t get the concept of choosing to go away with them and doing it 24/7.
I agonised slightly about writing those words because it will mean I’ll never get invited anywhere, but then I realised I’m not bothered that I won’t get invited anywhere.
Actually, now I come to think about it, I’ve never been invited to do that sort of stuff. So maybe people can smell my fear. (Let’s not think too much about the other potential reasons.)
I didn’t go away for schoolies week. I haven’t been backpacking with a bestie. I’ve never been on a girls’ weekend.
Might as well draw a big “L” on my forehead with permanent marker.
The exceptions to the going-away-together rule are partners and family. I’ve done that heaps and survived it pretty well … aside from a fraught trip to Spain that resulted in me disliking my boyfriend intensely for a year afterwards …
I took my sister with me on my first freebie work cruise. I took my mum to Hawaii when I was 22 (sorry Mum, but I kinda regretted that one when you snored like industrial machinery every night in the hotel room). I’ve been on numerous extended family holidays with both my family and my ex’s family.
That stuff doesn’t bother me, I suppose because I feel more able to hide or go for long walks or go to bed early when it all gets too much.
And going away with a partner is a more zen one-on-one experience. Well, except when you’re on a driving holiday in Spain with a cranky bastard who hates pork and is incandescent with rage about your inability to read maps quickly enough. There aren’t many zen moments in those holidays.
Holidays with DD, on the other hand, have been pretty easy to take. He’s a gentle soul who is very difficult to rile. He’s also very good at ignoring my manic overthinking.
I could quite happily head off on 500 million holidays with him. There are so many beautiful places I want us to visit together. Just not with a tour group. Shudder …
Do you like going away with groups of people?
Song of the day: Madonna “Holiday”