MAKING FRIENDS WITH SUMMER

When you grow up in Florida, Summer isn’t a season, it’s a life sentence. Northerners welcome the season with open arms— a reprieve from a long dark winter indoors. In a taxi driving along Lake Michigan one Summer, I was amazed that every square inch of sand along the water was occupied. Locals were playing volleyball shoulder to shoulder and sunbathing under touching beach towels. Gleeful swimmers moved in groups like school of fish. I’d never seen such a concentration of rollerbladers on a single sidewalk. The whole city was out there with no time to waste. In comparison, the occasional dip below 75 degrees in Florida was rare – like a mirage in a desert. I thrived during those glorious cool days the way Chicagoans relished in Summer months. 

When school was out I didn’t have nearby kids my age to play with. My brother would hang out with a group of neighborhood boys while I watched from the sidelines. They spent their days riding bikes around town, playing video games and throwing around a ball in the middle of our street like they owned the road. They were the kids from The Sandlot and much like the film, little sisters weren’t included. My coolness level wasn’t helped by the fact I didn’t know how to ride a bike. Two wheels gave kids a freedom I craved. I couldn’t keep up.

More than any other time of year as children, there was pressure to be having the most fun during Summer; to be doing something brag-worthy to bring up on the first day back of school. 

The biggest negative impact with the warmest months was my discomfort in my skin. All throughout school, I looked about two grades younger than my classmates- a time when appearing young was not ideal. My friend’s bodies were changing in ways mine were not. It was ironic my mom didn’t let me pursue gymnastics in fear my growth would be stunted. “You won’t get any taller and it’ll screw with your menstrual cycle!” she’d say. While she may have saved me from broken bones, it hardly made a difference to my height or cup size. 

Insecurities about my underdeveloped chest, short legs and gangly arms made the beach or pool a stressful place. A combination of heat and humidity caused my sensitive skin to flare up in angry rashes compounding to my stress. A trip to the dermatologist informed me of several chronic conditions that have followed me into adulthood. Eczema and a sun allergy known as Photodermatitis is filled out on every medical form. I spent an entire summer one year in my brother’s clothes because wearing anything that touched my skin was too painful. Flowy layers and long sleeves in the Florida heat were a protective armor against the elements. I was under 100 pounds and as delicate in every way you could imagine. 

The irony of being born and raised in the sunshine state with an allergy to it was not lost on me. As advised by my doctor I became an avid daily sunscreen user for over a decade now. Even in the middle of winter or on gray days, SPF is always within reach. It’s helped immensely. And so has moving to a kinder climate.

Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m better able to manage my skin conditions and insecurities (thank you steroid creams and cooling Calamine lotion. And to the collection of cute sports bras that make me feel strong). I’m proud of my body for taking me to all the places it has. Sometimes it’s easy to look back at old photos of yourself and realize how cool you actually were and how great you really looked in retrospect. I’m choosing to appreciate my body where it is now and give myself credit the way my future-self would.

One of the things I was drawn to right away about my partner was his rich curiosity for nature. Empty pockets in college never stopped us from doing cool things together. Thanks to him, I got to live out the outdoorsy childhood summers I never had. He introduced me to camping, hiking, and cross country road-trips- things he was no stranger to growing up in the Carolinas. His brothers and neighborhood buddies would play outside by the creek unsupervised until his mom would call them in for dinner.

In recent years I can happily say I’m softening up to Summer. Thanks to my adventurous and encouraging partner and the milder weather in the Santa Cruz mountains, I see the longer days as ripe with opportunity instead of dread.

My town comes alive in a similar way it does on Lake Michigan. I can’t drive by the main cross street of town without seeing a neon poster alerting me of a farmers market here or garage sale there, causing fun shifts in my weekend plans. Parking lots to the local state parks spill out onto the street. There’s a buzz in the air. Summer invites people outside to be among a community; to be a little more in the moment. When I catch myself complaining about the Summer traffic of our unique beachy mountain town, I stop and remind myself how lucky I am to live where I do. We’re all just trying to have our Lake Michigan moment.

Instead of wishing Summer away, I’m leaning into July with a special bucket list. As my fellow late bloomers can understand, it’s better late than never.

-Enjoy melty ice cream by the lake

-Buy a bathing suit to replace the one I’ve owned for over seven years

-Take new bathing suit to a hot spring 

-Family camping trips 

-Bake a lemon cake from scratch 

-Play tourist in a new town in my home state

-Travel for cheap by reading books set in places I want to visit 

-Increase the female energy in my life and make friends on Bumble BFF

-Print out last years film photos

-Alameda Antique Fair

-Stock up on stationary and write people out of the blue  

-Piece together a Halloween Costume from thrift stores (ideally planning and crafting starts mid-summer)

-Learn how to ride a fucking bike