a hotel rooftop in bangkok changed the way i see the world.

I have to tell you about the hotel rooftop I stayed at in Bangkok, Thailand.

It was peace and curiosity and feeling alive and safe and held and worthy and independent all in one. I saw so many walks of life. It felt like a reward. A place everyone came to just exist. This rooftop is the perfect example of something my brain does a lot: takes an average moment and expands it to the deepest existential meaning possible. But all the hidden threads are the juiciest part, so come on a field trip with me to this rooftop.

As dramatic as this sounds, my soul will always go back to it. That feeling. In the morning as the world was waking up, standing there as the heat started to creep in, with an iced hojicha latte from Oasis Coffee across the street in hand. Then at night, while the world was buzzing, and people were drinking and smoking and just existing. Being up there and watching the world from a different perspective, rewired me deeper than the surface level. The rooftop put the world into perspective for me, and honestly, made me question for a while why I owned myself so much more traveling than in the US.

To give some context: I was in Bangkok for 3 nights during my solo trip to Southeast Asia this past January. I met up with a few friends from high school who were also traveling. The original hotel we booked backfired due to fire ants in the sheets. While I was flying over from Koh Samui, we virtually scrambled and found this new place within our budget. I’m not complaining about the first hotel—it was fine—but this next hotel?

Still basic, don’t get me wrong. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. But it was the subtle upgrades that really pulled me in and made me feel relief in the most alive way. A huge room with 2 decks (I’m a sucker for a deck—who doesn’t like to people watch?) A rooftop with a pool (which I didn’t end up going in), lounge beds build into the ground for tanning, and a big open area to walk around. Still, nothing crazy. But it felt like such a cultural statement and four months later, I still think about it often.

(pic is straight from my Insta because at some point on this trip, i made the smart decision of putting my phone in the fridge after it overheating which left me not only phone-less during my journey home, but photo album-less. so many good ones gone, rip. but at least i had my ipad with me! ipad diaries from that here on my YT.)

There I was, an American girl thousands of miles from home, just so nonchalantly living my life as everyone else there was. But I felt part of something bigger. That rooftop felt like many ships passing in the night. Even in the same space, people are experiencing different worlds. A shared space does not equal a shared reality, and maybe culture is the invisible lens shaping that perception.

I went up there so much during our 3 day stay that I felt I saw it all. The group of German guys having some Friday night beers and cigarettes. A Chinese mom with her 3 girls splashing in the pool. An older sister scolding her little brother in Creole. A Spanish-speaking family taking photos in the open area. That rooftop felt like the truest testament to this idea that we’re all just living our lives, in our own bubbles, based on our own perceptions of reality, conditioned by our own cultures.

Maybe something as simple as a hotel rooftop is one of the clearest symbols of how many lives overlap without ever fully touching. The biggest reminder of how and why humans are so vast and different. New data I loaded into my perspective—thanks to this rooftop—is that most conflict in the world comes from overarching assumption of shared realities.

Why does identity feel lighter abroad? Besides being away from your day-to-day lifestyle, I think travel offers a break from your environment mirroring back who you think you are. You become more curious, open, and receptive instead of going through the motions of a life you consider “the real world.” I would argue that it’s the opposite. Doesn’t it make more sense that the “real world” is actually everything outside our personal version of it, since our perspective is always limited unless we step outside of it? Or am I crazy?

(Side Note: Here’s my personal offering to you. Instead of staying inside your own bubble and accepting thoughts like, “this is just how things are, this is just how I am, and there’s nothing I can do to change it,” try questioning that story. There’s something deeply human about realizing you might have more agency than you’ve been taught to believe. That your reality isn’t fixed—it can expand as your perspective expands. There’s a reason people say you need to leave your hometown to grow.)

Nothing makes me feel more worthy of loving life than travel does. Inviting myself into another world and experiencing that culture up close feels like standing on top of the world. I’m in control. I’m watching from the highest branch of the tree, the bird’s eye lens. On that rooftop, I felt close to God. I felt hope for what’s next. Energized by what’s real. Inspired by what’s possible. Grateful for what I still have to learn. Exposed to deeper truths—a lot more than I think many of us realize.

(A deep truth that no one wants to admit: expanding your worldview—really immersing yourself in other cultures just to learn—requires intention, energy, and investment. And a lot of people either aren’t in a place to do that, or don’t feel drawn to it in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, many of us want to travel. But for most people, it stays a fantasy—something that exists in the background of a busy, structured life. And maybe both realities are valid. On one hand, travel is a privilege because it requires resources and freedom. On the other hand, there’s also a kind of privilege in not feeling compelled to expand your worldview through movement—because that means you’re not constantly pushed to question your own perspective.)

Maybe I’m just another out-of-touch American losing her mind over this idea that a bunch of other cultures can and commonly exist in the same place, especially in one of the biggest hubs in Asia. But this hotel rooftop felt deeper than that. Every family there had their own reason for being in Bangkok. Their own story. Their own set of problems. Their own set of gratitudes. Their own lens.

And I think that’s what I’ll keep chasing. Not just travel, but that feeling of being held by the world high enough above it all to remember how vast it really is.

(it’s true guys. the grab bikes are basically super cheap amusement park rides.)

thanks for reading and learning with me. xoxo,

rach