The other day I went to the beach with my husband and one-year-old daughter. It was a sunny, hot day and as we were getting ready to go, I began worrying if we’d ever find parking. “It’s okay, if there is no parking then we’ll just go home,” I told myself reassuringly.
We drove to the beach and miraculously we found parking extremely close to the water. I found a little, tiny spot under a rock with shade to ensure no one would get burnt. My husband took my daughter and off they went in the water.
I stood back under the shade with my long sleeve shirt and responsible hat, taking photos of them as I always do. A cheerful voice inside of me said, “Go swimming, let’s enjoy the sun!” For the first time in a long time, I decided to go into the water.
The water was a bit cold; I prefer when it’s very warm, but I paddled around anyway. I disregarded any fear of sharks, any fears of getting burnt, and just enjoyed the water.
My husband wanted to do a few laps, so I took my daughter and sat on the shore with her. Gentle waves crashed at our feet, and she looked up at me and smiled.
I grabbed a fistful of wet sand and my daughter stared in amazement as it formed into intricate blobs on my bare legs. I normally hate the feeling of sand on my body, but in that moment I didn’t even notice. She squealed in delight as I started to build little sandcastles on her legs.
I remembered that I hadn’t put sunscreen on my back, and I’m very pedantic about sunscreen. I wondered if we should move to the little shady spot I found up on dry sand. But we were having so much fun there I didn’t want to leave. I could tell my daughter didn’t either. So we stayed.
The waves came again and again, washing away the sandcastles we built. My husband came out of the water and joined us. I felt so much love and happiness in that moment. I wanted to run to my purse and get a photo of how happy we were. But instead, I sat there continuing to build sandcastles.
When we finally got home, my back was burnt. Normally this would really concern me. I have known people who have died of skin cancer, and I do everything I possibly can to avoid a burn. But on this very day, I let myself be sunburnt. I let it be okay.