My first morning in Santa Teresa led me straight to the beach. My second morning in Santa Teresa led me straight to the surf.
I've been obsessed with surfing since I was a child, but growing up in the city, I never knew surf culture as well as I would've liked. Still, I'd yearn for the sea - feeling most at peace floating on my back with the waves rocking me into complete bliss.
I am at the age now where I realize, if I am going to do anything worth experiencing, then I need to forget about what I grew up with and just go. Forget about everyone's expectations and find my own way.
When I was 13, I applied to boarding school without telling my mother. It was the best decision I'd made in my life. It exposed me to travel, art, peace + love, social service, and standard high school drama. No, it didn't turn out to be Hogwarts but it was MY decision. Somewhere along the lines of societal pressures, high school sweethearts, and fluctuating health, I forgot that. I forgot to do what I want, how I want, and when I want. I never failed myself before. Why did I stop?
And so I surfed. And fell. A lot. And I realized I was an out of shape piece of turd that needed to get her stuff together. Still nursing a bum elbow from a summer skateboarding fall, I went home with an aching arm that night. And pretty much every other night for the remainder of my trip. But I was OK with that.
Tasting the salt water as the sun glistened off my skin was everything and more.