Last weekend, my husband, my son, and I spent the day at Carolina Beach. It wasn't a fancy vacation or a big getaway. It was just one of those simple days that somehow leaves a bigger impression than you expected.
If you've ever been to Carolina Beach, you know the water isn't crystal clear like Florida. I usually like being able to see my legs when I'm standing in the ocean, so I don't venture out very far. I've always been a little cautious about what's underneath my feet.
But this time was different.
I walked farther out than I normally would. The waves kept coming, and instead of worrying about what I couldn't see beneath the water, I started paying attention to what I could feel instead: freedom. I let the waves carry me. I laughed when they knocked me around. I stopped worrying about whether my curls were getting soaked with salt water. I wasn't thinking about my to-do list, work, emails, responsibilities, or what Monday would bring. For a little while, I was simply present.
As I looked around, I noticed I wasn't the only one. There were women laughing with their husbands, grandmothers chasing little ones through the surf, moms jumping waves with their children, and girlfriends standing ankle deep talking about life. Some women stayed safely on the sand, content to watch everyone else having fun. Others walked straight into the water without a second thought, letting the ocean do what oceans do.
None of them were worried about looking perfect. None of them seemed concerned about whether their hair would frizz or their swimsuit fit exactly right. They were simply enjoying the moment.
Standing there, I couldn't help but wonder how often we keep ourselves on the shoreline of our own lives. Not because someone is holding us back. Because somewhere along the way, we've convinced ourselves to hold ourselves back.
Sometimes it's fear. Sometimes it's responsibility. Sometimes it's the way we were raised. Sometimes it's our faith being misunderstood as never making time for ourselves. Sometimes it's motherhood. Sometimes it's marriage. Sometimes it's years of putting everyone else's needs ahead of our own until we forget what we even enjoy anymore.
Little by little, we stop asking ourselves what brings us joy. We become known as someone's wife, someone's mama, someone's daughter, someone's caregiver, someone's employee, someone's everything. Those are beautiful roles. But they were never meant to replace who we are.
As I stood there letting another wave crash into me, I realized I wasn't just enjoying the ocean. I was letting go. I was letting go of the need to always be careful. I was letting go of worrying about my hair getting wet. I was letting go of thinking every moment had to be productive. Most of all, I was letting go of the idea that taking time to enjoy my own life somehow meant I was neglecting everyone else's.
It doesn't.
In fact, I think the opposite is true.
When we begin taking care of ourselves—our health, our joy, our peace, our friendships, our marriages, our bodies—we become better for the people we love. There's a reason people have said for years, "When Mama's happy, everybody's happy." I believe there's wisdom in that.
Lately, I've been reclaiming pieces of myself. JR has me in the gym counting reps I never imagined I'd be doing. He's adding weight to the bar and reminding me that I'm stronger than I think. My clothes are fitting a little looser. I have more energy than I did just a month ago, and I'm discovering that taking care of myself isn't vanity.
It's stewardship.
It's choosing to honor the body and the life God has given me.
Maybe that's why the beach stayed on my mind. The waves didn't care how old I was. They didn't care about my responsibilities. They didn't ask how many people depended on me. They simply invited me to come in.
Maybe life is doing the same thing for you.
Maybe this season isn't asking you to become someone new.
Maybe it's inviting you to remember the woman you were before life became so busy that you forgot to ask what made you smile.
So let me ask you something.
Who is the "me" in you?
Not your job. Not your title. Not your role as a wife. Not your role as a mom. Just you.
What makes you laugh? What makes you lose track of time? What fills your soul instead of draining it?
Find that woman again. Invite her back into your everyday life. She doesn't need a week-long vacation. Sometimes she just needs permission to walk a little farther into the water.
Stay beautiful,
Shan
