5 People I’m Happy Not to Be at the Beach

home insemination Kit

Not that they’re not stunning! They are. They’re fantastic. But that level of self-awareness and unyielding perfection just doesn’t seem as enjoyable as splashing in the waves with a tankini that’s one size too big, filled with beach pebbles, and a bit of untamed hair down there.

1. The Teenager: You know the type—whether they’re fabulously skinny, curvy, or just average, they’re busy yanking at their swimsuits with a look of disgust. It’s a shame because they’re missing the joy of their own sun-kissed radiance, their bodies brimming with health and vitality like finely tuned machines. I want to tell them, “Embrace those bodies!” They’re not here to be judged or admired; they’re meant to explore, to laugh, and to live. Treat that body like a cherished guest (and I’ll strive to do the same).
2. The Grad Student Duo: Picture a couple deeply engrossed in matching editions of Gramsci’s Prison Notebooks. Seriously? Even The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants seems a bit ambitious for the beach. I’m more likely to doze off with the print from a half-read New Yorker column stamped on my sunscreened cheek.
3. The New Parent: There’s always someone nursing in a damp, sandy swim diaper in a hot, fly-infested tent, waiting endlessly for a caffeine fix. Oh, I feel you! I’ve been there. Honestly, take the baby back to your cool hotel room, lie down, and enjoy some HGTV. The beach will still be there when your little one is old enough to appreciate it.
4. The Kale Enforcer: You know the one, shoving kale salad into her son’s sandy hands while he looks like he’s under arrest. Don’t get me wrong, I serve my kids those same healthy meals at home, but this is the beach! This is prime time for Lay’s New York Reuben chips, not fermented beets from glass containers. (Though if I had a shot at winning the Lay’s contest, I might rethink my priorities!)
5. The Towel Wrapper: There’s always someone who keeps a towel wrapped around her waist in a bid to hide her (gorgeous) 30-year-old legs. Trust me, I’ve been there too. But just wait! It’s liberating to be in your 40s and shed the cover-ups of insecurity. Turns out, not many people are that interested in my dimply thighs! Sure, my kids might cringe, but they’re not my target audience. That would be the partner lying next to me, appreciating every bit of me.

I used to feel sorry for those of us who are all messy and carefree, laughing with chips flying out of our noses while slathering sunscreen on our pale legs. Who knew that middle age would unlock a whole new level of beach happiness?