Wellness or Well-Washed? A Healthy Chat We Need to Have

Earlier this week, I went to BEING — the first wellness and well-being conference held in Phuket. It was a beautiful gathering. Creative minds, industry pros, healers, artists, thinkers — all coming together. It felt hopeful, inspiring even. But I didn’t leave with a neat conclusion. I left with more questions than answers. And maybe that’s okay.

So this isn’t an article with “key takeaways” or a summary of the panels. It’s more a collection of thoughts. Ramblings, maybe. Things I’ve been carrying around and now feel the urge to say out loud — or at least, write down and share. Maybe it’s a midlife crisis. Maybe it’s a generational one. I don’t know. But I know I’m not alone in feeling this way: tired, unsure, wired and yet flatlined, full of ideas but also strangely hollowed out.

First, thank you — Sumi, Bill, Viona, Paul — and to all the speakers, performers, coaches. You created something important. You opened a space. And I want to add my voice to it.

Because I think many of us are not okay. We don’t say it, because we work in hospitality or wellness or leadership — we’re supposed to be fine. We’re supposed to be calm and grounded and inspirational. But under the polished exterior, a lot of people are just… exhausted. Anxious. Searching for meaning in an increasingly chaotic world.

BEING made me think about that word we throw around so much: wellness. It’s on every brochure, every retreat, every hotel website. But what does it really mean?

It feels like it’s becoming a buzzword — like sustainability before it. Something marketable. Aesthetic. A feeling we’re supposed to buy into. But when I hear “wellness,” I don’t just think of yoga or spa treatments or clean eating. I think of the real stuff. The messy, un-Instagrammable stuff — grief, burnout, loneliness, financial stress, disconnection.

And I wonder: how many hotels that promote wellness are actually supporting the well-being of their own team? Are we offering mental health support, fair wages, real time off, safe spaces to say “I’m not okay”? Are we building environments where people can grow, not just perform?

Because wellness isn’t just for the guest. It starts from the inside out. It starts with our teams, our leadership, our policies.

And honestly — is it even accessible anymore? The wellness space feels increasingly elitist. You need time, money, flexibility. Coaching, therapy, retreats — they cost. I’ve needed help at times and couldn’t afford it. And I know I’m not the only one. That’s a tough pill to swallow when you work in industries that sell well-being.

We sell escapes. We promise transformation. But let’s be real: no retreat can fix your life in a weekend. Your problems don’t vanish on a beach in Phuket. You still go home with the same weight in your chest. Wellness isn’t something you check off a list. It’s a lifelong, uneven, unpredictable journey.

Even in paradise, people are hurting. Don’t let the blue skies fool you.

I’ve worked in pricing, revenue, tech, content — I get the business side. I know how the machine works. But what if we shifted focus from growth to depth? From scale to significance? What if we stopped chasing “more” and started asking, “Is this meaningful?”

Why is success always about revenue? What about values? What about how people feel?

After COVID, we had a chance to change the system. To breathe. To slow down. But it feels like we hit fast-forward again. And now AI is speeding things up even more. That scares me, to be honest. Not because I hate tech — I actually love it — but because we risk losing the human part if we’re not careful.

But maybe there’s another way. Maybe tech — including AI — can actually support well-being if we design it that way. Tools to help us be more mindful, more connected, more human — not less. That’s the kind of innovation I’d like to see.

I don’t have all the answers. I’m still figuring things out. But I want to be part of the conversation. I want to be seen. I want to be heard. Not for validation, but because I know I’m not the only one with these thoughts. And maybe if we all speak a little more openly, we’ll realize we’re not so alone.

Whoever you are, I’d love to hear from you. Let’s talk. Let’s listen. Let’s try — gently, imperfectly — to do better. Together.