Water's Edge 06.30.2013

I was standing on the edge of the Atlantic the first time I felt truly comfortable in my adult body. After hitchhiking 3,000 miles to get there, I stood at the water's edge, letting the grit lick my heals. The waves crashed around me, nudging me in.

And who am I to deny the ocean?

I stripped down to my underwear and dove in headfirst, scraping my knees against the seashells and relishing in the sting of salt water in my eyes.

I let the weightlessness take me and I floated to the surface, tethered by nothing.