Humans have no natural predator (well except for other humans—particularly those who are convinced climate change is not a thing…). But I do.
The sun.
No, I don’t mean it in the Bella Thorne movie from the mid-2010s way. It’s not so dramatic as the special windows and life trajectory-altering circumstances. It’s very simple and fairly boring. Genetics gave me red hair along with almost no melanin.
This means that as soon as the UV index ticks above 1, my chances of sunburn go way way up. It’s pretty ridiculous. I have gotten sunburnt through a school bus window on a cloudy day when it was raining. Pathetic, I know.
I love the sunshine. I’m writing this in the sunshine in a field of dandelions. I love how the warmth of the sun tickles my arms. I love how it lightens my hair. I love how it dances across my walls when I wake up in the morning. I love being in the sun, but I’ve had to relearn this love.
When I was small, I knew subliminally that the sun was bad. That it was out to get me. I learned my fear from my mother, who, warned her redheaded children of sunburns, cancers, and early deaths. Protective hats were pressed on our heads like kisses. Swimshirts wrapped around us like hugs. Her anxiety was palpable. How was she supposed to protect us from an inconquerable threat?
As a seven-year-old, I stayed back at recess to slather on my pasty white sunscreen armor before venturing out into my solar battlefield. I kept a watchful eye on its trajectory across the sky and kept myself hidden in the shade. I was the most sun-conscious seven, eight, nine, sixteen-year-old you’d ever meet.
I missed so much sunshine. Missed so much warmth. My bikinis were covered in swimshirts. My “sunbathing” legs hidden under towels.
As I’m writing this, and maybe as you’re reading this, too, it seems silly. I know that. But when you grow up in a place where darkness and cold dominate for six months out of the year, being told to stay out of the sun when it finally rises feels like a theft of joy. Even when the warnings are said with love.
When I was little, I used to sneak rebellion, taking off my swimshirt for two minutes to feel the water. Sunbathing ON my towel just for a minute instead of UNDER it. At seventeen, in my biggest (well my only) act of teenage rebellion I threw the swimshirts away entirely. I gingerly stepped into the sun (clad in SPF 70 of course).
I began to flirt with the sunshine. Reading on a towel in the middle of the lawn with no shade in sight. Lying out on the paddleboard in a bikini on a sunny day. Negotiating my own contract with the sun.
I still find myself wanting to hang in the shadows, though. I stare at the sunshine and the people enjoying it, and wish that I too could be there, too. I forget that I have a choice in the matter.
I forget that I am my own adult. That I can make my own choices about where I want to place my body (well in theory if not in the eyes of the current supreme court). That I can seek out my own little joyous defiances.
I love the feeling of the sun on my skin while I look at the trees and evesdrop on conversations of my fellow park-sitters (her rental broker invited her to his wedding after she’d only met him TWICE?!). It makes me happy when I sit out in the sun with wet hair and don’t go inside till it’s dry.
Most of all, I love the gratitude that I feel in the sun. Gratitude for being able to grow up with someone who cared so much about my safety. I feel gratitude for the chance to choose to lie in the sunshine even if I risk getting a little burnt. I feel grateful for remembering that I have some say in how I spend my moments.
I have a lot of gratitude for Trader Joe’s Daily Facial Sunscreen, too. The best thing $8.99 has ever bought me. (this is not sponsored, but it would be so cool if it was).
I hope you get to find something today that is your own little joyful rebellion.
Anyway, that’s all from me!
I shall go continue to brainstorm more small stuff to sweat.
<3 Becky
(also I am tentatively considering switching to biweekly posts, I’d love to know your thoughts!)
I like that you are holding space for gratitude for your mom's protectiveness whilst also reveling in your freedom as an adult to make conscious decisions about your life. This resonates with me on a much deeper level, and I have recently really learned to appreciate the dichotomy of being thankful while also a little resentful of all you 'missed". Anyway thank you for the lovely read 💕
I'm from a more sunny country and I rarely get sunburnt and it's so nice to see someone from a completely different climate talk about the sun!! Because although I love the sun, by August I'm already praying that it rains because it's too hot 😭 Even then, I cant imagine what it would be like to not see it for half of the year