Not that they aren’t lovely! They absolutely are. They’re fabulous in their own right. But let’s be honest: being self-conscious and obsessively perfect just isn’t as enjoyable as frolicking in the waves with a tankini bottom that’s slipping down, filled with sand, while sporting my own glorious chaos. Here are five folks I’m thankful aren’t me at the beach:
1. The Teenager
You know the type—the one who’s either fabulously slender, wonderfully curvy, or perfectly average. It pains me to see them tugging at their swimsuits with dismay. They’re missing out on their own stunning, sun-kissed bodies, which are like sleek machines of vitality, full of endless potential. Those bodies are meant for living, laughing, and enjoying life to the fullest! I wish I could tell them to embrace their youth while I try to do the same.
2. The Grad Student Duo
Picture this—two lovebirds intently reading identical copies of Gramsci’s Prison Notebooks while the sun blazes overhead. I can hardly keep my eyes open long enough to finish an article in the New Yorker before drifting off with the paper imprinting itself on my sunscreen-slathered cheek.
3. The New Parent
Imagine a parent stuck in a hot, sandy nursing tent, trying to soothe a fussy baby in a soggy swim diaper. Oh, sweet friend! I’ve been there. My advice? Take your little one back to a cool, air-conditioned room. Kick back, watch some HGTV, and know the beach will still be waiting for you when your baby is older.
4. The Snack Police
This is the person shoveling kale salad into the mouth of a child who looks like he’s just been arrested for holding up his sandy hands. I get it; I’m all about healthy eating at home, too. But come on—the beach is the perfect place for munching on Lay’s New York Reuben potato chips. After all, who wouldn’t want to be the lucky winner of the Lay’s contest? “New York Reuben” sounds like a million-dollar phrase!
5. The Towel Wrapper
This is the person who wraps a towel around her waist, trying to hide her beautiful, youthful legs. I’ve been there too, but let me tell you, it’s so freeing to embrace your body at 40 or 46! It turns out, not many people are really scrutinizing my dimply thighs. My kids might joke about it, but they’re not my audience. That honor belongs to someone who appreciates me for who I am.
I used to feel sorry for folks like me—hairy, tousled, laughing chips out of my nose and slathering on sunscreen. Little did I know that middle age would unlock my beach bliss!
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In summary, life at the beach is about embracing the messy, imperfect moments, and appreciating the beauty in our own chaos.