The Tamesis
As I lay on a sun lounger on the balcony of Los Calo in Puglia, sheltering from the heat under a white pergola, I found myself admiring not the view of the Adriatic in front of me, but the old man to my right. He was about 60 years old, wearing sunglasses, finishing a cigarette, then leisurely eating a plate of olives, picking them one at a time and washing down the saltiness of each bite with a sip of white wine. He looks like he’s been living the life: he’s got a little tan, some questionable tattoos, and a low belly, which tells me he likes to indulge himself without much negotiation, but I can’t help but notice how free he looks. His body was relaxed and he seemed oblivious to what was going on around him.
Not just him, but almost everyone around me – almost all seniors. They have a sense of ease and ease that is all but lost among my Millennial peers, and even more so among younger generations. None of them took out their phones. No one is constantly taking pictures of themselves or the scenery. No selfie stick in sight. I can’t help but think that maybe their sense of relief comes from actually being there herenow, rather than in some fictional future, they imagine themselves posting European summer thirst traps on Instagram and watching the likes roll in.
It’s almost comical, considering how out of control this has all become, and how travel has become synonymous with imagery. In the past, culture came first and travelers came second—you went to a place and you were changed by it. Now it seems to be the opposite: the traveler is the subject and culture is just the background. Who needs the spotlight on the Adriatic when your tiny waist and plump ass are the center of attention, and who cares if you have to FaceTune to achieve your ideal proportions, am I right?
But none of this is actually funny at all. For all the blessings that come with being a millennial—a childhood without cell phones and social media, but an adult domination of the platform and the simultaneous knowledge sharing it brings us—the pitfalls of social media comparison seem to be one of our curses; certainly in everyday life, but also in travel.
It turns out we are no longer traveling at all; We are traveling in our own image.
Things I once thought were normal, comments from myself and friends about feeling bloated, missing out on our workout routines or worrying about constantly loading up on sugar on the road, have become more frequent and intentional. I noticed this on this trip to Italy, which consisted of several girls’ trips stitched together into a continuous flow of seeing multiple friends in countless places. When staying in dreamy locations like Borgo Egnazia in Saville Tridi Fasano, Don Toto in San Casciano and Palazzo Daniele in Galliano del Cabo, at almost every point of contact the inevitable seems to happen: I or a friend of mine will be triggered in some way and pushed away from the joy of travel, and almost every time, it has to do with our bodies.
According to the Mayo Clinic, this conversation falls into the realm of body dysmorphic disorder, a mental health condition in which a person can’t stop thinking about one or more perceived imperfections or flaws in their appearance — often flaws so small that others can’t notice. Research shows that up to one in five people suffer from body dysmorphia, and a vacation culture driven by social media may be exacerbating it: 51% of Gen Z and 42% of Millennials feel pressured to look a certain way before traveling, and 56% avoid vacations due to body image concerns, according to a Forbes Health-OnePoll survey of 2,000 U.S. adults.
