If "People We Meet on Vacation" Made You Emotional, This Is Why

“On vacation, you can be anyone you want. You can do anything you want. You can spend an entire day at the beach. Nothing but the warm sun on your face and clear skies above. Or being on vacation transports you into another version of yourself. Because on vacation, you strike up conversations with fellow travelers. You’re more outgoing, more confident. No, you know what it is? On vacation, you’re free. Free to nourish your soul. Free to follow your heart.” – Poppy Wright in the opening monologue of People We Meet on Vacation

Like many viewers, I recently sat down and watched the new Netflix adaptation starring Emily Bader and Tom Blyth. The story follows an unlikely friendship between two opposites, Poppy and Alex, who meet while carpooling to their hometown in Linfield, Ohio. Their shared drive turns out to be unexpectedly eventful, full of awkward moments, laughs, and vulnerable conversation. It’s here that their lasting friendship begins.

As the film progresses, we learn about these characters; who they once were and who they’re becoming. Poppy is quirky, outgoing, and full of life. And while you don’t initially see it, there’s a sadness to her as well. One that fears an ordinary life and questions if she’s too much. She uses these feelings, as well as her deep sense of curiosity, to relentlessly chase new experiences. Alex, on the other hand, is a bit more reserved and observant. It’s clear he values stability and predictability, likely the result of having to learn early on in life that they’re not guaranteed. While these two are different at their core, they understand each other in a way that feels safe.

When Poppy moves to New York and Alex remains in Ohio, the solution to their long-distance friendship is an annual summer vacation together. It’s during these trips that the audience is treated to flashbacks, including a camping trip to Canada. Here, Poppy does more than influence Alex. She rearranges the way he understands himself. She does this by challenging him and giving him permission to confront his suppressed desires. If there’s something Alex wouldn’t do, then “maybe Vacation Alex does.”

This is a pivotal moment in the film, and one that stopped me in my tracks. Almost immediately, I paused the TV and sat with its truth as it echoed through my own life. In that instant, I understood Poppy not just as a character, but as a reflection of myself. I began to wonder if nostalgia is really about the past, or the version of ourselves that once existed.

As I hung on that thought, I remembered something my father told me years ago: “The days are long, but the years go fast.” At the time, it sounded like a warning. Now, it feels like a truth you understand as you get older. When I trace the timeline of my own life, I see so many versions of myself. I’ve lived in a small town and exchanged it for a massive city. I’ve traveled to several different countries, in what I call my “hippie girl era.” I’ve loved deeply and lost painfully, so much so that I could probably write my own rom-com. Nonetheless, each phase has held its own rhythm, its own way of moving through the world. Heck, each phase has even had its own aesthetic. From the days I had pink hair while I pounded the pavement of New York City, to the nights that I danced through the streets of Villa de Leyva, Colombia.

Whatever it may be, while I was in it, it felt real, like this was who I was. I’ve even asked myself many times which version is the real me. But maybe that question misses the point. Perhaps they all are. Each version has carried something necessary: adventure, courage, curiosity, resilience, and each one left an imprint. They didn’t disappear, but rather layered themselves on top of one another, crafting me into the woman I am today.

This, I think, is what Poppy intuitively knows. She understands that identity isn’t something we arrive at, but something we move through. While Poppy’s relentless pursuit of experience is often about escape, it’s also about collecting pieces of herself and embracing them wholeheartedly. And when she invites Alex to step into “Vacation Alex,” she’s offering him the same permission she has given herself: permission to exist beyond fear, beyond habit, and beyond the limits of who we think we are.

If nostalgia were only about the past, it would keep us stuck there. But People We Meet on Vacation offers us a different perspective. Something gentler, something that feels more human. Nostalgia isn’t a desire to go backward, but a recognition of continuity. A chance to see how our past and present connect, like a handshake. Knowing that who we were still breathes beneath the surface of who we’re becoming.

This is why vacations matter less as destinations and more as thresholds of change. Each trip holds a version of Poppy and Alex that exists only in motion, shaped by laughter, risk, and their shared becoming. Their freedom comes from being seen and understood by each other. They’re the most themselves when they’re seen without expectation and allowed to exist outside the roles life assigns.

With that being said, nostalgia isn’t about the beach or the moments frozen in time, is it? It’s about being known in a way that makes you feel whole. As the years move forward, the question changes. It’s no longer “Who was I back then?” but “How do I carry that person with me now?”

People We Meet on Vacation suggests that growing up means bringing our past with us, not abandoning it. We see this with Poppy when she decides to change her life to be with Alex. After years of prioritizing her career and travels, she realizes that happiness is tied to the life she shares with him. She chooses to leave the city and embrace a new chapter where they can be together. As she hands in her resignation letter, it reads: “Most people need a vacation from their life. And that was never my problem. I need the life part.”

In that moment, nostalgia becomes less about memory and more about permission. Permission to evolve. Permission to want more. Permission to release the grip on who we thought we wanted to be.

People We Meet on Vacation ultimately reminds us that throughout life, identity is fluid. We’re not abandoning past versions of ourselves by growing beyond them. We’re honoring them by letting their influence move us forward. Nostalgia asks us to remember what once felt real, so perhaps it isn’t about the past at all. Perhaps it’s about the many selves that it’s shaped us into, and the choice to live in a way that feels just as alive, just as open, and just as honest as we once did.