Wading Back to Myself

Back to reality. I’m back home to the beautiful grey skies and crisp cold air.

For the rest of my trip, I tried to make the most of every moment before heading back. That meant eating all the food and snacks I knew I’d miss, seeing cousins one last time, and squeezing in a few more visits to the beach.

As I mentioned before, my goal was to finally go for a swim. With encouragement from family and friends near and far, I found the courage to do it. It was early, around 6am and the sun was just rising and there were only a handful of people on the beach. With my parents embarrassingly cheering me on, I walked into the sea. It was an amazing feeling, something I’d wanted to do for a long time but had always talked myself out of. I’m still self-conscious about my scars, so I wore a t-shirt, but once I was in the water, I relaxed. The sea was warm, the sky was clear, and for once I stopped worrying. Even though a few people were around, no one was paying attention. Everyone had their own thing going on, and I realised there was no need to stress.

After that first swim, I went back to the beach a few more mornings. It’s an experience I’ll always remember and one I’d like to recreate again soon.

I also spent time exploring and dreaming a little. One of my goals was to finally get my Grenadian passport, which I did. I’d wanted one for a while, not just because I’m entitled to it, but also for the travel benefits. It allows visa-free entry to places where a UK passport doesn’t, and free movement around most of the Caribbean. We visited parts of the island I hadn’t seen in years, including some of the wealthier areas, admiring houses that are currently out of reach (key word: currently).

The natural beauty of Grenada and the Caribbean in general still surprises me. But when you have a personal connection to a place, it hits differently. I caught myself daydreaming about what life would be like living there. I don’t think it would be all that different once I’d settled in, but I know I’d miss family, friends, and the small everyday things I grew up with. The dream is to earn enough to split my time between both places during the year.

 Back home now, the grey skies don’t seem so dull. If anything, they remind me how lucky I am to have two places that feel like home. I’ve come back with more appreciation for both. “Everyone has their own thing going on,” I reminded myself on that beach, and maybe that’s the lesson I needed: to stop worrying so much about how things look and just live in the moment. For now, I’ll be planning the next trip, and I’d love to hear from anyone who’s had a similar moment of courage, big or small that changed how you see yourself. What’s your “walk into the sea” story?

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