Summer of Growth

By Anya, March 5, 2018

Read time: 3 Mins

Summer of Growth Image

This past summer marked a new era for me,

one in which I was happy to be alive. Before it, my days were spent drowning in self-isolation, self-loathing, and feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t want to make friends, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to acknowledge the emotions within me that held me back from finding happiness. And when I say happiness, I don’t mean the fleeting kind; I used to live only for the weekend, but now, I find that everyday is a blessing in every way and I can do whatever I want with my life. I allow myself to manifest my words and goals into reality, slowly but surely. I don’t try to control things in my life anymore, I allow them to happen and then I react in a way that benefits me.

This past summer I remembered why I need to stay alive. I realized how beautiful the ocean is, how gritty and annoying sand is, and how I suddenly became surrounded with a group of friends who I talked to constantly, and who I always felt comfortable being around. It all happened in seconds; I hadn’t realized that I created this environment for myself, I created a support system that unintentionally helped me see the beauty in life again. I went out so many times this past summer that, if you asked me how often, I wouldn’t be able to count on my hands and feet. My skin saw the sun so many days, and the moon recognized my silhouette every night.

This past summer was my unintentional therapy. I forgot about my depression and eating disorder, both being a distant memory from 2013. This past summer tasted like black cherries, wet hair, smoke that didn’t come from cigarettes, and the colour orange. This past summer was bright orange, it blinded me right into September; I forgot how to live outside of the city for a moment.

I found beauty this past summer, a kind of beauty I’ll never forget. A kind of beauty that I’ve captured with each photo I’ve taken. A kind of beauty I barely know how to talk about, much less write about. A kind of beauty that makes you forget about being suicidal. That kind of beauty is the most powerful; the beauty of the city at dusk, gradient skies, meeting new people, living outside of your comfort zone. The only way to find beauty is to do everything you don’t want to do; everything you think might backfire, everything that arouses your interests.

This past summer I dove deep into the deep end of spontaneity; I ran through forests, jumped off highlands into navy waters, and stayed up until sunrise. I let each colour of the sun paint me in new places each day; I remembered how it felt like to be 10 years old again, because god knows I was happy as a kid. And I think to myself, that this past summer, is how having no worries feels like. Beauty came and went each morning and each evening. I never tried to hold on to it, I simply let her come and go whenever she pleased. I let myself come and go as I pleased. This summer, I tasted beauty for the first time, again.

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