June in the rearview

The stories that stayed with me, plus a look at what's ahead.

Grand Cayman is no place for a woman in perimenopause. At least not in summer. I just got back from a few days in the Caribbean island, and I was so dang hot everywhere I went.

It was too hot for long dresses, though I tried. It was too hot for coverups, even the coverup that was perfect in Grenada. Thankfully, the water was perfect. Just the right temp and exceptionally clear, which meant I spent as much time in it as I actually could.

Crystal clear waters in the North Sound of Grand Cayman

In a few days, I’ll be packing my suitcase again, this time for nearly a month.

My husband and I are loosely following my youngest to upstate New York for a pre-college program. While she’s dorming it, we’ll spend the month hiking our way through the Northeast and eastern Canada, visiting family, whale watching along the St. Lawrence, trying something called via ferrata (which sounds equal parts exhilarating and terrifying), and eventually making our way back to collect her.

This is the kind of trip I’ve dreamed about for years, a big escape from Texas in summer. And yet, as it gets closer, I find myself getting more nervous. I’ve never lived out of a suitcase for a month. And this particular trip involves a lot of logistics.

But there’s more to it.

Travel has a way of making us feel less rooted … more exposed … more vulnerable. It strips away the guardrails that help us regulate ourselves. It doesn’t create the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, but it sometimes amplifies them. One ill-fitting hotel robe, and we’re suddenly questioning our entire existence. Do we lean into that discomfort and grow, or do we shrink? Do we let those old stories dictate the trip, or do we keep on living? Maybe that’s why I’ve found myself thinking so much about what it means to be fully present, to fully inhabit our lives, wherever we are.

Coincidentally, my essay from two years ago about being plus size in Paris is trending again, which feels fitting at the height of travel season. Judging by the comments, the story resonates for reasons that go well beyond body size. It’s about that unsettling feeling of arriving somewhere beautiful and suddenly wondering whether you belong there at all. I suspect that’s why so many people continue to see themselves in it.

Paris isn't made for plus sizes (but I went anyway)

As I looked back over everything I wrote in June (and late May), I realize I’ve been hitting on variations of the same theme.

What are we waiting on to start fully embodying our lives?

Wearing the bikini.

Getting in the picture.

Taking the trip.

In a way, every piece this month circled that same question. How much of our lives do we postpone while we’re waiting to become someone (or some body) we think is more worthy? And what’s holding us back?

Here’s what we explored on Almost Sated in June

The Sephora employee who tried to save me

Sometimes the smallest interactions reveal just how deeply we’ve all internalized the idea that we should always be improving ourselves. This piece became less about skincare and more about the messages we absorb without even realizing it.

Too fat. Too thin. Too old. Too sexy.

No matter where women show up, someone seems ready to tell them why they shouldn’t. As I watched the reaction to the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Runway, I realized our judgments of other women’s bodies often reveal more about our own beliefs than theirs.

The divine pleasure of not waiting

This essay grew out of a Note. It started with a simple observation on a hiking trail and became something much bigger: the realization that life isn’t waiting for us to become a different version of ourselves.

One reader shared something that stayed with me:

“Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Don’t wait to be alive.”

Another wrote about realizing she didn’t want to spend the next 30 years postponing her life until she reached some imagined version of herself.

“Life is happening anyway.”

Maybe that’s real freedom. Not finally becoming perfect, but realizing you never needed to be in order to fully inhabit your life.

Things I’m thinking about

As I leave soon for this month of travel, I’m curious what I’m going to take from it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about why travel sometimes quiets body image, and other times seems to amplify it. I have some theories and expect to share more soon. If you have thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

I’m looking forward to spending long days hiking, whale watching, and remembering that my body is far more interesting as a vehicle for living than as a project to constantly improve.

One thing I’m loving (liking?) this month

It was a whopper of a read, but I started and finished Maggie O’Farrell’s Land in the Caymans. I literally Googled the reading level midway, because each page felt like it was taking ages to get through. O’Farrell’s writing is so lush and exquisitely descriptive that it demands full attention.

With Land, I was captivated by the mysticism, the relationship between the mapmaker and his son, and the mystery surrounding the father’s vision at the well. A flashback describing his starvation during Ireland’s Great Famine was one of the most gripping depictions of hunger I’ve ever read. But after all that careful, deliberate storytelling, I was longing for a satisfying ending that tied all the threads together, and it never came. If you’ve read it, let me know what you think!

One thing I’m packing this month

After noticing over and over again that hotel bedside lighting just isn’t what it used to be (or maybe my eyesight has gotten so bad I need brighter lighting), I’ve taken matters into my own hands and bought this personal book reading light, a Wirecutter recommendation. I’ll report back.

A question for you

What’s one thing you’ve stopped waiting to do?

Maybe it’s wearing the thing.

Taking the trip.

Getting in the photo.

Starting the hobby.

Ordering dessert.

Speaking up.

Or maybe it’s something completely different.

I’d love to hear your answer.

Over the next month as I’ll be writing from the road, there will certainly be stories about travel, but more than that, I suspect we’ll be talking about identity, aging, taking up space, and what happens when we step outside our routines. I have a feeling this trip is going to give me plenty to think about, and I’m looking forward to sharing it with you.

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