Hey friends. I’m coming to you Monday, January 12th. Désespéré – what’s the word for that in English? Exasperated.
Updates. I think the last time I checked in I was frustrated about my Airbnb in Manggis. That situation continued. I’m now on Airbnb number four. When I last checked in I was on Airbnb number two. The saga continues.
One of my favorite things about Bali is the size of it. No matter which direction you drive, it’s usually under two hours. It makes it really easy to explore different parts of the island and experience totally different vibes. That was part of the plan when I moved to Mangis. The plan was to find somewhere quiet. Quiet, quiet, quiet. I did not know until now how differently that word can be interpreted across cultures.
This experience has actually humbled me. I’ve learned that quiet means very different things to different people, especially culturally.
After Mangis, I went to Airbnb number three in Ubud. One of the issues there was that the hosts wanted to wait on me hand and foot. They were incredibly kind, very service-oriented, but that is the opposite of what I want. I want privacy. I want to be left alone. I’m preparing for a silent retreat. I want low stimulation. I don’t want to explain myself repeatedly or be asked questions or have people checking in on me.
I’m highly sensitive. I’m sensitive to sound. Motorbikes cause vibrations in my chest and my whole body. When motors are nearby, I feel them in my body. Of course, they don’t understand that. I’m not mad at them for that. But I still have to communicate my needs and protect myself from being in situations that cause distress.
This has been a constant loop of trying to be heard and understood. I’m doing my best not to lose my patience. I’ve been kind, respectful, communicative. I’m actually really proud of myself because in the past I didn’t have this capacity. I used to snap, melt down, or disappear completely because my window of tolerance was gone. I would feel shame for not being more patient, but this is what it’s like to live in this body.
So many people live like this. Hidden. Isolated. Because capacity is low and explaining ourselves is exhausting. There is nothing wrong with us. We are living in bodies that work differently, often carrying trauma. Some of us are healing, some are just trying to understand what’s happening.
I left the place in Mangis. The morning I woke up, I knew I was leaving. They had told me there would be gardeners on the path. The path was right in front of my glass doors. I opened the blinds, put clothes on, and went back to bed. A man walked by and stared straight into my room, into my eyes. That already felt violating. Then a woman stopped, squinted, stared in, and waved at me while I was lying in bed. I felt like a zoo animal. I know they meant well, but it did not feel okay.
The first Airbnb felt dishonest. I asked about construction and noise and was told there was none. There was construction and chainsaws and neighbors. That felt like being misled. The second felt like a cultural misunderstanding. By the third, I realized this is a cultural mismatch. Quiet here includes motorbikes and ceremony sounds. Privacy here is different. Communities are shared, interconnected. Individualism and solitude are understood differently.
I moved back to Ubud, to an area called Campuhan Ridge. Before going, I asked again about construction and noise. I was told there was none. As soon as I arrived, there was a massive construction site right next to the building. I could see it from my bed. The host insisted it wasn’t construction. It was Sunday. I went out for lunch, came back, and when I went to shower, there were construction workers standing right outside, looking into my apartment while I was naked. That felt like a safety issue.
I contacted Airbnb support. I had to document everything again. I had to find another place. I was exhausted.
I want to name why I’m doing this. I’m trying to find quiet places in Bali because one of my future business offerings is helping people take healing hiatuses. Taking time off life, landing somewhere safe and quiet, reducing stimulation, letting the nervous system settle, creating routines, and beginning the healing process.
I can’t heal people, but I’m very good at coordinating, organizing, negotiating, and navigating travel. I’ve been nomadic for over seven years. I understand the logistics, the cultural differences, the timing, the tools, the order of operations. I want to help people land safely.
I left Ubud and went to Lovina, in the north of Bali. It was another two and a half hour drive. The place is massive, on a mountain, surrounded by nature, with pagodas and gardens. It’s beautiful and far more than I need. All I really need is a bed, a couch, a desk, a bath, internet, quiet, and privacy.
Before arriving, the host told me there would be motorbikes in the morning only. When I arrived, the place was right on the road. Motorbikes all day long. I was devastated. I was also exhausted. This was my fourth place in four days.
When I’m moving like this, I don’t eat properly. I don’t drink enough. I have interoception issues. I have allergies. I’m not sleeping. My nervous system is fried. I’m dealing with Airbnb support, hosts, noise, construction, and trying to stay regulated. After four days, I was done.
I’m here in Lovina now, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. Motor vibrations feel like invasion in my body. My brain interprets them as danger. My amygdala is hypersensitive because of developmental trauma. It triggers panic, hypervigilance, and overwhelm. This is why people like me isolate. We hide to protect ourselves and others.
I don’t think that’s okay. We deserve to be in the world. We need accommodations. We need awareness. That’s why I’m doing this and why I’m speaking up.
My purpose right now is to lower stimulation, get quiet, structure my time, and heal before my ten-day retreat. I haven’t found the place yet. There’s also a part of me that wonders if there’s another solution, another tool, something I’m not seeing yet. I need to sit with this and discern.
I hope this reaches people who get it. I’m not sharing this because it’s pretty or inspiring. I’m sharing it because I’m figuring it out so I can help others. One day at a time. Trusting the process. Learning the lessons. Letting go of blame and black-and-white thinking. Remembering that people are doing the best they can.
I’ll check in again soon. Thanks for listening.
Threads
Cultural Mismatch Around Quiet and Privacy
Summary
I’m realizing that my definition of quiet and privacy is fundamentally different from the cultural context I’m navigating. What feels overstimulating or invasive to me is considered normal and acceptable here. This insight has helped me stop questioning my sanity and reframe the experience.
Lesson / Teaching
Understanding cultural context does not invalidate personal needs. Both can be true at the same time, and discernment is required to navigate the gap without self-abandonment.
Tags
cultural-mismatch, privacy-needs, sensory-sensitivity
Living in a Low Window of Tolerance Body
Summary
I describe what it’s like to live in a body that reacts intensely to sound, vibration, and overstimulation. Motorbikes trigger my threat response and create hypervigilance and panic. This is not a preference but a physiological reality.
Lesson / Teaching
Sensitivity and trauma narrow the window of tolerance, but healing work can expand capacity over time without erasing real limits.
Tags
window-of-tolerance, hypervigilance, nervous-system-regulation
Progress in Regulation and Communication
Summary
Even under extreme stress, I’ve stayed respectful, communicative, and regulated. In the past I would have melted down or disappeared. This moment shows how far I’ve come.
Lesson / Teaching
Progress is not the absence of overwhelm, it is increased capacity to respond with presence and self-respect.
Tags
healing-progress, self-regulation, unmasking
The Cost of Healing Without Support
Summary
Trying to heal while constantly moving, negotiating, and problem-solving is exhausting and destabilizing. Healing requires containment, not constant disruption.
Lesson / Teaching
Environment is a core ingredient of healing, not an accessory.
Tags
healing-environment, burnout-recovery, nervous-system-safety
Vision for Healing Hiatus Work
Summary
I share my vision for helping others take healing hiatuses by supporting travel logistics, location selection, and nervous-system-safe environments. This journey is research as much as it is personal.
Lesson / Teaching
Lived experience becomes service when it is integrated with clarity, boundaries, and practical skill.
Tags
healing-hiatus, service-vision, lived-experience
Trusting Process Over Blame
Summary
Despite frustration, I’m practicing letting go of blame and seeing nuance. People are doing the best they can within their own constraints and survival realities.
Lesson / Teaching
Maturity is holding compassion without sacrificing truth or self-protection.
Tags
discernment, compassion, meaning-making
Selected Quotes
“I did not know until now how differently the word quiet can be interpreted across cultures.”
“This is the truth of what it’s like to live in this body.”
“I felt like a zoo animal.”
“My body interprets vibration as danger.”
“We deserve to be in the world.”