Summer Solstice

I am thinking about past summers. Summer is my season of change and learning. It is the season in which I learned how to live in my own skin, learned who I am and, learned to like it.

I was seventeen, and it was a beautiful summer. My friend had a car and we had so much time on our hands. We laid out in the sun during the day and walked around the neighborhood park at night. We had a small group of friends and we would spend so much time together. This was the first time I felt free. We went camping, went to festivals, and stayed out all night just talking. It was a strange time because even as I put myself in new situations that made me feel grown up and free, I was held to the values instilled in me. I was always afraid to steer too far away from the rules set for me.

The first time I loved and felt loved was during a summer. It was a short-lived moment in my life, but it was innocent and sweet. It was filled with ideas and dreams that never came to fruition. But the memory of the sweet summer smells, the full moon on his red hair, and his exciting eyes still fill me with a heartbreaking melancholy that takes me back to those nights filled with potential and pure giddy delight.

Ten years later, I would finally learn about me. It took such a long time to get to this point. I remember this as the summer of living life to the fullest, in every way. It was during this time that I first learned to love my body. I learned that I am strong and capable of doing hard things. It was a summer filled with music, friends, dancing, drinking, and unadulterated fun. I hiked, danced, traveled, created new friendships, and ended old relationships. It was a whirlwind of experiences that ultimately changed the course of my life! Sounds crazy, but it is true.

Half a decade later I had a sad summer. It was a moment in life which taught me that bad things come and they go. It taught me to know my own heart and to understand that no one should fill me. I learned to be enough for myself. The level of disillusion was so high that to this day, I have trouble understanding why, but luckily, I have stopped needing an answer. I am content with knowing I am a better person than I was during that time.

My summers now, are more about my kids. I want to create memories with them. I want to spend my days planning things to do, and my afternoons executing our schemes. But, for the most part, we spend our days getting chores done, and our afternoons driving to our different activities.

Life moves differently now. For me, it is more lackluster than I would like. It is monotonous, and some days I get so frustrated because I am not living in my moments. I am going through them. I reminisce about my own childhood, the sunfilled days playing with the neighborhood kids, and devouring big slices of sweet watermelon. I remember nights of catching fireflies and chasing boys around our neighborhood.

Thinking back on those summers makes me want a summer of holding hands, and laughing until my belly hurts. I want to watch movies outside, wrapped up in the arms of the one that loves me, even when he doesn’t like me so much. Or a blanket, cause I’m easy to please. I want to discover new restaurants, swim in new pools, play board games late into the night, and win. I want nights of music and wine, karaoke, and slow dancing. I want s’ mores, starry nights, and BBQs. I want my children to laugh at how I dance, laugh with me, loudly and freely.

Life is so choice. I will be more present. I won’t wait until all the stars have aligned, and all signs point to yes. I will make those memories. Make a life for me, not to anyone else’s specifications, because no one else will remember it.