There’s this myth that vacation is a reset button. Book a flight, pack too many outfits, sip a cocktail, and poof – stress cured. Yeah, no. Sometimes you come home needing a vacation from your vacation – plus a chiropractor, two naps, and therapy.

The Case for Completely Unplugging

I have heard of those magical creatures who vanish like they’ve been abducted by aliens. Phones off. Out-of-office reply on. They reappear two weeks later with tans, clear eyes, and zero shame about ignoring civilization. Must be nice to live without the crippling fear of 5,625 unread emails.

Me? I tried it. It felt amazing. Then I got home and real life sucker-punched me with an overstuffed inbox in desperate need of an Ozempic shot,  deadlines, and a laundry pile large enough to qualify as its own zip code. That peaceful glow evaporated faster than the ice in a watered-down beach bar margarita.

The Case for Keeping Toes in the Pool

Then there are the normal people – addicted to peeking “just once” at email. (Spoiler: once is a lie.) They are the human equivalent of that person who orders a salad but sneaks fries off everyone else’s plate. The phone stays in the bag, but we know exactly where the bag is.

Boundaries help: one quick check in the morning, then lock it away before you spiral. Stress in moderation. Like tequila shots.

Traveling Companions: AKA My Family Reunion

This trip, it was me, my husband, and our three adult children (28, 26, and 22). “Adults” in theory. By day two, the clock had rewound and suddenly they were bickering siblings again and I was back to being Mom the Referee who always gets the call wrong.

Here’s the problem: they’re not used to 24/7 me anymore. My personality is… let’s say robust. (They say a lot.) Every opinion, every suggestion, every “maybe you should apply sunscreen before playing beach volleyball for 4 hours” was met with Olympic-level eye rolls. Honestly, family vacations should come with warning labels: “Side effects may include sarcasm, mutiny, and the urge to fake your own death.” And who can forget the whining and tears from sun-crisped noses and shoulders (I spent $30 on a 12 oz bottle of Sun Bum Aloe Vera gel!)

And look, I adore them. But was I secretly thrilled we weren’t all sitting together on the plane ride home? Absolutely. Call it self-care or preserving whatever shred of what little sanity I had left, either way, the silence and reading time I had was the best souvenir I brought home. Ok, not THE best. We had a lot of great moments and memories. We laughed and fought, danced and even tried our hand at a silent disco. All in all it was one of the best vacations. Second only to our month in Italy, which went pretty much the same way except with gelato and sexier accents.

So… Does Vacation Help?

Yes. Sort of. If you define “help” as giving you new material for your therapist. Vacation doesn’t erase burnout. It just temporarily replaces your problems with overpriced piña coladas and sand in your shoes, your bag, your shorts, and places where nobody should ever need to picture.

The real truth is yes, vacation does help, but only if you use it intentionally. Vacation won’t magically fix burnout, but it can remind you of who you are outside of deadlines and laundry. It’s a chance to regroup, to see your life from a new angle, and maybe to come home with just a little more perspective (and hopefully a little less email backlog). The reset is less about the destination and more about the permission you give yourself. The permission to unplug, to rest, to breathe. The reset isn’t in the beach or the pool – it’s in permitting yourself to pause, and an occasional guilt-free scroll through Pinterest. Call it vacation, call it survival, or call it hiding in the hotel bathroom with your cocktail. Maybe it’s just plain just self-preservation. The reset begins when you stop apologizing for needing it.

Either way, you earned it.