The Bali Burnout: Making Friends on a Rotating Island Door

Ah, Bali. The Island of the Gods.

The land of lush jungles, rice paddies, overpriced yoga mats, and that unmistakable coconut-in-the-air scent.

Living here sounds like a dream, and for the most part, it is. I wake up to roosters (and not the subtle kind), sip on fresh mango smoothies, and drive my scooter past temples wrapped in black-and-white cloth.

But there's a darker side to Bali living that they don't tell you in the vlogs.

It's the revolving door of friendships and the emotional whiplash that comes with trying to bond with people who treat this island like a temporary layover on their digital nomad bingo card.

The Instagram Dream vs. Reality

Let’s get this out of the way: Bali is magical.

But it also attracts a very specific kind of person. The kind who arrives with big dreams of "finding themselves" after reading Eat, Pray, Love twice and watching Bali: Life on the Island on YouTube.

They post their sunrise hike to Mount Batur on Day 3.

They get a tattoo in Canggu by Day 5.

They call themselves "locals" by Week 2.

And by Week 6, they're on a plane to Chiang Mai because, and I quote, "Bali is getting too touristy."

Meet, Bond, Ghost: The Social Cycle

This cycle? It's exhausting.

You meet someone cool at a co-working space or at a beach cleanup or over Nasi Campur.

You click instantly.

You make plans.

You laugh over how you both hate Canggu at sunset traffic.

You even get real for a second about past heartbreaks or why you moved here in the first place.

And then?

They leave.

Off to Portugal. Off to Mexico. Off to “see what Thailand’s vibe is.”

And just like that, you're left with an Instagram follow, an inside joke that no longer lands, and a gaping emotional vacuum.

The Bali Friendship Burnout Is Real

I reached my limit after friend number six ghosted me for their next adventure. No warning. Just a “see you around” and poof gone like incense smoke after a ceremony.

I started questioning if I was being too intense. Too clingy. Too permanent. Was I the problem?

Spoiler: No. I just didn’t want to invest in relationships that had the shelf life of a banana left in the Ubud sun.

Emotional ROI in Friendships

I now assess emotional ROI like I'm reviewing an Airbnb listing. Is this person going to leave me high and dry in three weeks? Do they see this place as a home or just a backdrop for their next content shoot?

Not every conversation needs to lead to soul-baring vulnerability, and not every coffee chat needs to become a lifelong bond.

How I Now Choose My Bali People (and Why You Should Too)

Now, during the very first conversation, I just ask bluntly: “How long are you in Bali for?”

That one question tells me everything I need to know.

If they’re here for a few weeks, great, I’ll happily chat about where to get the best sambal matah or complain about scooter traffic together. But that’s where it ends.

If they’re here longer, or have no set plan to leave, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let my emotional drawbridge down.

It sounds harsh, but it’s self-preservation.

I’ve learned the hard way that not everyone deserves the full “me” package.

Bali Isn’t Meant to Be Forever for Everyone

And that’s okay.

This island offers transformation. For some, that transformation happens fast and they need to move on. For others, like me, it’s about laying roots (or at least sturdy vines).

There’s beauty in fleeting connections. Some people I met for just one sunset changed my perspective forever. Some taught me lessons in boundaries, in resilience, in letting go.

But these days, I lean into consistency.

I cherish the people who choose to stay.

Who aren’t just here for the aesthetic rice paddy drone shot but are here through Nyepi and rainy season and those weird weeks when the Wi-Fi is just... gone.

“So You Live in Bali?” The Question I Now Dread

"Yes, I live in Bali," I say, smiling tightly, mentally bracing for the next question: "For how long?"

It used to be a badge of pride. Now it feels like I'm being asked how long I’ve had an imaginary friend.

So now I just say, “Long enough to know who’s sticking around.”

A Coconut Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

If you’re planning to live in Bali long-term, prepare to lose people faster than you lose your flip-flops at a beach club.

But the real magic?

Finding the ones who stay.

The friends who bring you ginger tea when you’re sick, who actually know where to find the best sate in Denpasar, and who text you during Nyepi even though they can’t come over because, well, spirits.

So here’s to the real ones.

The Bali ride-or-dies.

The ones who’ve seen you sweaty, confused in a temple, and crying into your Mie Gacoan (I’m looking at you, Maria!).

The rest?

May they find their next perfect island and may they finally learn how to use their scooter turn signal.