A bit of a lengthy one this, so get yourself a cuppa. ☕

When my husband and I boarded the plane to Bali for our honeymoon, I was bouncing up and down with excitement. My phone was full of TikToks and Instagram photos of flawless beaches, emerald-green rice paddies, and that incredible golden light that made every scene look like it came from a fantasy world. I had a very good idea of what we were going to get.

Boy, was I mistaken.

The Real Bali Behind the Photos

Don't get me wrong — Bali is truly beautiful. The ocean scenery is stunning, and Ubud's like walking into a fairy tale. But there's a whole side of Bali that never gets put into one of those ideal social media photographs. And as someone who tends to feel things pretty intensely, I was not prepared for what I experienced.

We got our first week in Kuta, just off the beach in a really good hotel. But as soon as we went outside, I encountered a reality that Instagram had totally glossed over. It wasn't even the infamous crazy traffic and tight roads that everyone complains about — it was something much more dense.

The Stuff That Really Got to Me

I walked around for a while in Kuta and saw children living on the streets, some as young as 12 years old carrying babies and begging for money. Teenage girls along the dirty footpaths with small babies in their arms, some so still and silent they did not even flinch. It was not only once or twice; it was all around, right next to party buses filled with intoxicated tourists blaring music.

The disparity between wealth and poverty was huge and in-your-face. What a tourist pays for lunch is what some locals make for weeks. I kept thinking: where's child protection? How can this be happening right next to upscale tourism? How do people just walk by this?

When You Love Animals and See This Stuff

Being an animal lover myself, some of the toughest moments were watching the way they're treated. Stray dogs everywhere — hungry, hot, thin. I learned after that many locals view them as wild animals and should be able to fend for themselves, but to look those pitiful eyes when I'm eating with a full plate was terrible.

The horses that were used to pull tourist carts completely broke me. Standing for 8-12 hours in the sun on sweltering roads, with plastic bags attached to their bums, not even being allowed to sit — I rightly wept seeing this. I couldn't eat once I had seen all of this misery when the people around me were drinking and partying as if nothing was amiss.

There was this one experience at a place called Suka Espresso that still makes me cry. This dog walked between tables with that expression — you know, hopeful but used to rejection. Everyone just smiled and waved her off. She ended up lying beside my feet, exhausted. When the food arrived, she opened her eyes and licked her lips but didn't even beg. She'd given up on everyone caring. Despite big dogs always intimidating me, I offered her half of my burger. How could I not?

Instagram vs What's Actually There

Those fabled places from TikTok such as Suluban Beach and Thomas Beach? Disappointed, to be honest. After waiting in traffic for hours to arrive there, the beaches were full of "influencers" and photographers taking up all the desirable spots. It was fake instead of real.

At Uluwatu Temple — which sits on this fantastic cliff with breathtaking views — I saw tourists walking on the holy Balinese offerings. You know, those gorgeous little trays with rice and flowers that are used for prayer. Locals were being filmed while they prayed, in their faces like it was some performance. Holy things were just turning into Instagram fodder.

Same with Tirta Empul Temple in Ubud, where the locals visit for spiritual purification in sacred waters. What was supposed to be a sacred and intimate experience came off as more of a circus for tourists. Lines of people taking videos of themselves performing the ritual, having a raucous laugh, posing for pictures in front of shrines. It just did not feel right.

The Wake-Up Call I Didn't See Coming

This was my first international trip, and I went in totally believing what I'd posted on social media. I learned the hard way that this isn't how you travel. The world isn't the utopia that influencers present to you, and perhaps that is the best thing I could've learned.

I'm from Kyrgyzstan myself — not really a rich nation, and we've got a lot of unfairness ourselves. But somehow, being a tourist in another person's poverty was different. It felt like something from The Hunger Games — rich individuals walking by poor ones without even looking at them, everybody just here to have a good time while others are barely scraping together an existence.

What This Trip Taught Me

I used to believe that sensitivity was something to be solved, particularly when folks would say things like "toughen up" or not feel so much. But what this trip did for me is teach me that sensitivity is not something to be fixed — it's what makes us human beings. Sure, it hurts when you witness unfairness, but it also makes you care and pay attention.

The poverty, the mistreatment of animals, the cultural disrespect — these aren't necessarily Bali's fault. They're manifestations of a larger complex where tourism can benefit local communities and hurt them. The question isn't whether you're going to be angry about this stuff, but what you do with that anger.

Going Forward with Eyes Wide Open

I don't regret traveling to Bali, but I do regret traveling blind to how complicated it is. Traveling isn't all about pretty pictures and lounging around — it's about experiencing different realities and allowing them to transform you.

Other travelers have informed me I should've "done my homework" better beforehand, and okay, no complaints. But perhaps others must be assured it's all right to be shocked at poverty, to bawl at suffering animals, to be overwhelmed at inequalities. These responses do not make you weak or ignorant — they make you human.

For those of us who feel as deeply as I do, understand that traveling will push you in ways you won't anticipate. But it'll also open your eyes, expand your heart, and shift your perspective on the world. That transformation, though painful at times, is worth it.

For Anyone Planning a Trip

If you're contemplating traveling to Bali or anywhere like it, here's what I think:

• Don't be overly reliant on social media while planning
• Prepare yourself emotionally for varying standards of living
• Consider how your holiday impacts local residents
• Make purchases locally and spend money at places that look after animals
• Be considerate at places of worship
• Bear in mind that your holiday is occurring in someone else's daily existence

Bali is lovely, holy, and special — a location worthy of respect. The question is whether we can travel there in a manner that respects that.

Travel transforms us, sometimes in ways we never anticipate. My honeymoon didn't offer me the flawless Instagram experience I had envisioned. Instead, it offered me something better: a deeper realization of the world and where I belong in it.

And sometimes, that's just what we need.