Not Quite From A To B
Today I am leaving the home that I've built for the last two years. I'd like for you to think about something first, though. As a kid, when you and your siblings or cousins sat on the beach and played with sand, I would imagine you used sand castle molds. If not, you were really good with making drip castles, and that is a skill in and of itself. But I want you to imagine your favorite sand castle mold. See it? Imagine you and your friends/family build this magnificent castle. We're talking like three times the size of your mom's beach towel. Massive, multiple layers, a place for the beach ball or barbie or toy truck, a moat because... duh. It took y'all literal hours to create this masterpiece. But then your mom says it's time to go in and get washed up for dinner. So you have to leave your carefully created sand art, and you just hope no one will step on it overnight. That's pretty much how I feel right now. I created this beautiful life with wonderful friends, used special equipment to build my castle, and then life told me I had to leave it. So, just like the salty, crusty face of your former sun-tanned self on the beach, grab a towel and cry your heart out with me about having to leave my castle.
Table of Contents
1.Past Future Predictions | 2.Wins and Losses | 3.Remembering Magic | 4.Endnote
1. Past Future Predictions
Three years ago, I would have laughed if you told me I would be living in the Caribbean from the ginger age of barely-an-adult. I was on track to become a corporate badass, finishing my degree in global marketing, buying fancy business clothes, and carrying a designer handbag as my backpack to class. Literally. After the first few surges of COVID though, I knew that I needed a break and to step away from my hometown for the summer so that I'd be ready to crush the next semester of school. Having already been a PADI Divemaster, I realized that I could travel somewhere, become an Instructor, and then teach "on the weekends" after I finished my degree. So little ol' me traveled down to Honduras and stayed for about three months. It took all of two weeks for me to realize I didn't want to go back. I wanted to give this scuba instructor thing a go. I learned that I had a passion for teaching people while floating on the surface of Utila's blue water, earning a stellar mask tan- iykyk. So, I sent out resumes, asked around, had interviews, and got job offers. I decided to move to Bonaire, an already favorite dive location for me, and was there after only two weeks of unpacking and packing back up to leave for good.
2. Wins and Losses
I'm sure you already know this, but the "honeymoon phase" can occur for almost anything. My scuba-instructor, island-dwelling honeymoon phase lasted a long time. Even when I started having ear infections. Which became chronic. Which led to a procedure. Which then decided it would bring its buddy, sinus blockages. Which led to another procedure. Which then became migraines after every dive. My fantasy-style goal of becoming a PADI Course Director gradually, then quickly, became an unachievable-at-the-moment dream. But let me back up a little bit. I moved to Bonaire but continued to finish college online (I finished a year ago, whoop whoop!). I also volunteered for the amazing STINAPA Junior Ranger Program to teach school-age kids how to dive. But my biggest accomplishment was becoming a PADI Master Instructor in two years, which by the way, is the quickest amount of time allowed. Countless hours of studying, teaching presentations, grading presentations, staffing instructor courses, certifying over three hundred students, and literally hundreds of dives. I amassed a whopping twenty-eight Specialty Instructor ratings and even made the Elite 100 list for 2022. Epic motivation, determination to become the youngest female Course Director, and actively working towards all of my goals. Then my body started to disagree. When I say chronic ear infections, I mean twelve double infections back to back. I couldn't equalize below a meter (three feet). Then I started having insane sinus pressure build-up and worsened headaches. Then full-on migraines after each dive.
*Side note: To those of you with diving experience who have dozens of questions, here's a few answers: I have been diving since I was twelve, dive on Nitrox 32 almost exclusively, have steady profiles, don't usually dive deeper than eighteen meters (sixty feet), ascend slowly, drink almost four liters of water a day, consciously breathe with a SAC of 1,3L/min, have been tested for PFO, tried over twenty migraine medications, used decongestants, and sleep well.
3. Remembering Magic
But the moral of this story isn't to reminisce on all the pain, sensitive ears, splitting migraines, or sinus blocks. I don't remember when the last dive was that I actually enjoyed and didn't end up in pain. My last dive without migraines was sometime in May. My last epic dive was last Christmas Eve. And I don't want to remember this magical sport as pain and heartbreak. Don't get me wrong, my heart is breaking and shattering over the fact that I have stopped diving and I'm not sure when I will get back into the water. But I choose to celebrate the good days, the mesmerizing dives, the excited students, the amazing teachers and mentors. Even every-day, run-of-the-mill, mundane dives, I remember as beautiful. Because I was under the surface of the big blue. I was breathing with the fishies. I was hearing the crackling of the healthy environment and watching the buzz of reef like I was in Shark Tale. News Flash: You don't have to see two seahorses, ten turtles, a manta ray, and mating triggerfish for it to be a good dive. You can be on the same reef you dove yesterday, with the same people, going the same direction, and it WILL BE DIFFERENT. That's the magic of the sea. The same location, same coral head even, is different every single day. *That* is what I want to remember. That and all of the times I surfaced with new divers and saw their faces light up as they let out a big happy sigh, raised their hands up in the air, and screamed, "THAT WAS AMAZING!!!!" I want to remember all of the moments I practiced patience with divers who needed a little extra help getting into the water. The times I spent laughing and smiling about the dive we just had as we got ready for the next. The salty, crunchy feeling my face had after a day full of diving. The lessons I learned while taking courses myself to become a better Instructor. I want to remember the good, happy, soul-altering, life-giving, stress-crushing, safe place that I spent endless hours in the past two years. I knew I loved the sea, but I didn't realize how much until now. I can literally walk into the water in a salty (wink wink) mood, float for ten minutes, and walk out cheerful and ready for the rest of the day. It *actually* heals my soul. I swear I have a mermaid tail that comes out when I'm in the sea.
4. Endnote
So, I guess you didn't need that towel after all. I might be leaving this island, this life, this era, this chapter... or as a friend put it, it's really closing a book rather than a chapter. But that is not to say it can't have a sequel. I might be leaving, but I'm leaving with innumerable happy memories, deeper smile lines, tanner skin, and life lessons that I will take with me into the next book. Title TBD. Setting TBD. Characters TBD. But you know what? I'm learning to embrace the unknown and jump into it scared anyway, but ready for what's next. The possibilities are endless. I have friends to back me up. I have pictures in my head of the life I've lived the last two years, and it makes me smile. I created the life I didn't know I needed. This door is closing for a reason. So here's to my "go with the flow" era. Go make a sand castle to help me celebrate the one I'm walking away from. Thing is... what I've built, will remain. I can come back to it whenever I'm ready. Thank you to everyone who helped me build my castle over the last two years. I'll be back at some point with tales of the other castles I'll build.
