The Beach Romance is Dead

On my third trip to the beach within the past year, I realized that beach romance is dead. I’m 38 years old, with three children who don’t really give me a moment’s rest. And going to the beach has become just another one of those parental tasks we do.

This is life when you’ve spent most of your life damaging your body and a brief few years trying to heal it. Every task, even the supposedly fun ones, are a chore.

Of course, it doesn’t help to drag a massive square tent that rips and gets tossed around by the wind. Or for everyone to get food poisoning the first night we arrived.

The real question is how much damage can be reversed? Is it possible for 40 to be more vibrant than 30? That is my hope. For now it’s all still a chore.

Photo credit: Hindrik S via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

Published by

Daniel Dessinger

Daniel is an avid people watcher and writer who shares regularly on his self-awareness site, Supposed.ly. Founder of CultureFeast.com in 2005. Co-Founder of Mommypotamus.com in 2009. He's on a mission to challenge the questions we ask and the assumptions we make.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *