Lately — with the whole massive global pandemic going on and everything — I’ve been thinking a lot about my career and how much it’s keeping me sane and bringing me joy. I almost chose a very different one, and being where I am and seeing how the world is has made me so grateful that I eventually followed my gut.
Summers no longer belong to me.
They once were the smell of chlorine and citronella (if your neighbor was kind enough to share the bottle of OFF! her mother left on the table).
They were half-hearted games of Marco Polo that turned into conversations about life, gossip about the friends who weren’t in the pool and the mysterious neighbors you’d make up stories about— they’re secret murderers! Vampires! It gave you all goosebumps until it turned into a joke-telling match and dissolved into laughter.
Summer was wet, damaged chlorine-soaked hair because you didn’t need to worry about your lipstick smudging or how funny your hair might look when it dried. A swimsuit you bought because it fit and it was your favorite color, not because you agonized over it in a mirror.
