10 Reasons Why I Hate My Dream Job As a Travel Writer
From my journal to your screens, because social media is a lie.
I want to preface this by making it clear that it is an absolute privilege to be a travel writer. I get to experience the world in a way that few people get the opportunity to, and many of these trips are glamorous, exclusive, and posh. My qualms are textbook “champagne problems,” and by no means do I think that they compare to many people’s real-world problems.
Being a travel writer has been my dream job for years. I always found excuses not to pursue it, telling myself that it was too hard or under compensated or that it was too late (hilarious considering that I was 22 at the time). Then, I found myself living in Australia and out of excuses. I will be forever thankful that I took the leap and gave this a real shot, but this journey has not been easy by any means.
However, this fear of seeming ungrateful, oblivious, and spoiled causes its own problems. No one’s life is perfect, especially not mine (trust me). It’s easy to post the highlights on Instagram and celebrate my wins, but that’s not the full picture.
It’s a lonely life at times.
Being a travel writer means spending a lot of time alone with yourself. I’m often left with a lot of time in my hotel room or on the road, and I miss the simple comforts of being around my friends or at least in the same time zone as them. The ease of familiarity and the intimacy of knowing someone.
Even the act of writing itself is rather lonely. When I’m working, I don’t have the chats by the water cooler or the camaraderie of coworkers. It’s just me and my laptop. Always.
Maintaining close relationships is hard when my schedule is always in flux and no one knows where in the world I even am. It feels like I always miss everything and like I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s isolating when the only constant is yourself.
I feel incredibly guilty about not doing more for the world.
For those who don’t know, I worked in progressive politics before I started writing. I switched for many reasons, primarily the burnout and heartache of the industry, but the decision still haunts me.
I am reminded of the world’s chaos every time I read the news. While I am off riding horses in the Andean mountains, children are being deported from their chemotherapy treatments. As I sip on champagne on a beach in Fiji, the rights of trans people are being stripped from them as the country watches in silence. When I’m skiing at posh resorts in Utah, my administration is attacking public lands and clean drinking water.
How entitled am I to be upset about a 9-hour time change?
The can be pay terrible bordering on insulting.
Yes, this one is obvious. And, yes, it is still worth mentioning. According to most writers I speak to, rates have only gone down in the last 10 years as the cost of living has skyrocketed. Many outlets know that they can pay writers practically (or literally) nothing and still find people willing to take on these assignments.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t know anyone who lives on doing travel writing full-time these days. Not without the help of a partner or a family or an additional job. I’ve been living with my parents because it has been the only way I can afford to do something that I love, but that’s less than ideal.
More than that, some of these rates truly border on insulting. It tells us that our words, our voice, and our work are worth so little. It says to us that we are replaceable.
Traveling this much can be emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting.
While it’s fun to say I was in Bhutan one month and Australia the next, the truth is far less enjoyable. This year, I have spent more time in airports or on planes than I have with the people I love. The time changes and long travel days mess with my body, my brain, and my hormones.
I was recently diagnosed with PMDD, a hormone disorder that affects about 1 in 20 women. My symptoms are exacerbated by exhaustion and intense travel, which leaves me with some rather difficult decisions about how to proceed.
Not everyone supports my career.
When I decided to pursue writing, I was rather surprised by the reactions of many people in my life. There were people who I expected to be less than pleased, but the disapproval of friends and family stung more than I thought it would. My ego was bruised, my life was thrown out of wack, and I needed support more than ever. I often found none.
Even more insidious wasn’t the outright disapproval but the passive aggressive comments. I’m wise enough to know that some people are too scared to follow their own dreams and choose to resent or judge those who do, but I wasn’t prepared for the impact of that on my life.
Some people chose to downplay my accomplishments, poke fun at less than favorable assignments, or outright criticize my choices. As someone who put all of my time, energy, money, and spirit into this creative pursuit, I simply don’t have time for that kind of negativity.
This industry is uncertain. Therefore, so is my future.
AI, social media, and the dying print industry leave travel writing up in the air. No one knows what this industry will look like in a few years or if I’ll be completely replaced by a computer, and that’s terrifying.
I am constantly being rejected.
I thought I had mentally prepared for how much rejection would come with being a freelance writer, but I don’t think anything really can. You expect a certain level of rejection, but an egotistical part of us will always hope that we will be the exception. Or that, at the very least, time and experience will open more doors.
I have received more rejections than my Google inbox can hold. I have story ideas that I really, truly believe in that are rejected in less than five words. Or, worse, writers often don’t get a response at all. I thought this would change with my first T+L byline and then with my first Lonely Planet or National Geographic. But the truth is that there are too many writers and not enough opportunity. Budgets are getting slashed every day and there are so many factors that are completely out of our control.
I want to do this full-time but those opportunities are few and far between.
Most writers I know started out in a full-time role which allowed them to learn from more experienced writers, get a grasp of how these outlets function, and build a network of editors. I crave the stability and mentorship and certainty of these jobs, but they don’t really exist these days.
Even when these jobs do open up, hundreds of travel writers have been laid off in the last year. The moment a travel writing job is posted, there are so many people who are more experienced in the same applicant pool as little old me.
Press trips can be super socially weird.
Press trips are socially a very odd situation. It kind of reminds me of when you become 48-hour best friends with someone in your hostel, except you’re also kind of co-workers and there’s no way to get away from anyone.
Everyone has their quirks and writers can be a bit… eccentric… Traveling with anyone for 10+ days is sure to expose people’s worst colors. Plus, I’m a secret introvert and sometimes just need to read my book in complete silence.
Don’t get me wrong, most people I meet are absolutely lovely, fascinating, and kind. I learn so much from the more experienced writers I meet on my trips, and I am so lucky to get to pick the brains of such incredible people. But even when you like everyone it’s rather sad because you share these beautiful experiences and then rarely (if ever) see them.
Imposter syndrome.
People love to fantasize about my job, and I admit that it is very flattering. When I meet someone new at a party, they love to hear about what I do and ask about whatever crazy adventure I was on recently. To some, I can appear to “have it all.” The adventure and luxury and now the successes of bylines in outlets like National Geographic at the ripe age of 25.
No one really sees the rest of this. The days I cry because I can’t handle the rejection. The stress about my future. The hours spent alone sitting in front of my computer.
I find myself waiting for someone to notice that I’ve been faking it this whole time. That I’m not glamorous or cool or whatever you think of when you think of a travel writer; I’m just lucky and privileged.
Thank you for sharing! This was very well said, and is often how I feel as a travel writer, too. Wishing you luck in everything you do!
You have covered every aspect of travel writing so thoroughly - the good and the challenging. I can relate to so much - even though you’re at the beginning of your career and I’m nearing the end. You’ve seen it all - or much of it anyway - at your young age. Keep enjoying the perks and tolerating the rest with humor and gratitude! 💕