The Beach is Vital to My #girlboss Recovery
finding joy and liberation with the sand between your toes
I feel giddy and free when I’m by the water. Whether it’s a Pisces necessity or the comforts of childlike feelings, I know where to go whenever I’m in need of re-grouping.
Two summers ago ago I had the urge to get on the S(f) and go to Brighton Beach on a Monday morning. After grabbing a bacon, egg and cheese from a local spot, I became a polka dot on the beach of other singular people (mostly older Russian women) who were enjoying the morning sun. I read and watched the water as I relaxed during a time I only knew to be frantic over. It became a ritual I am excited to return to this year.
Burnout makes me emotional because it makes me feel weak. And then I’m mad at myself for feeling weak because I know I’m not; and then I’m upset with myself for being mad at myself, because even if I was weak that is okay! The cycle goes on. What I’ve recently come to realize is that this cycle was built by #girlboss mentality.
Yes, that millennial phenomena made to uplift women in the workforce. But now that Nara Smith is trending, I’m taking a step back. So hey, Sophia Amoruso: for ten years you and your f*ck ass bob have f*cked me up and I am finally realizing that I need to break the cycle.
The idea of a “Girl Boss” started to trend when I was 17: A prime time for influences, especially around gender, sexuality and overall identity. Being a girl boss meant that you weren’t wasting your time. Every breath dedicated to creating a legacy at any costs. And because this was also the time I was developing a deeper connection to my blackness and immigrant-decedent-ness, it all felt a little heavier than someone going to The Wing for a networking night.
I could write a lot about the origins of my grind mentality (in fact, I did, and cut it all out of this post). To give you a taste, it starts with my grandmother; goes through the end of Summer ‘16 (the last time I cared about Drake); I go through a whole awakening around my blackness; emotions start to get better around 2021 when I joined Big Egg and then we end at last May.
Last weekend my friends and I made the trip out to Riis Park beach: A particularly festive time during pride month. Since the 1940s this piece of the Rockaway Peninsula has been a safe place for queer people and by the 60s it became clothing optional.
It happens to be that my artistic collaborators are also my Queer family. So seeing them in the sun, breathing in salty air and squealing while we ran into the freezing water was liberating.
You don’t have to do shit at the beach. There are no expectations at the beach. I want my job to be Beach. And ever since I got over my fear of bikinis and the expectation of a “beach body,” I’m wearing the smallest amount possible. In fact, after hours of deliberation with myself, I finally took my top off at Riis. I’m free, baby.
Sitting on Brighton Beach two years ago, I finally realized the world wouldn’t explode if I wasn’t trying to control it. I was…here. I wasn’t planning for the future or stressing about a mistake. I was chewing on a delicious sandwich where the deli actually made the roll and it was still under $5.
Being by water reminds me to practice gratitude, especially for nature and our bodies.
A couple of times on the beach this weekend I instructed my group to take a deep breath in. I implore you to stop reading this and do the same.
Deep breath in. Hold. Exhale through your mouth.
And now I ask you: Can’t you feel the sand in your toes?
Are you also recovering from being a #girlboss? Let me know how that’s going!
This was beautiful 🤸🏾♀️🤸🏾♀️🌊