Girl’s trip.  This year is was Belize.  No husband, no kids, no work, actual adult “me” time. It’s on these trips that I see myself again. Amusingly, I witness the unique quirks of me over and over without the distraction of kids or a husband…

In my mind’s eye, I am wonderful, flexible traveler. In reality, not so much – sensitive stomach, sleeplessness due to excitement, finicky eater…When I step back and really see it, it’s ridiculous.  The dichotomy of my hopeful mind’s eye (I am a world-class traveler, ready to win the Amazing Race!), and the starch truth of my behavior (porta-potties cause me to wince involuntarily.)  It is absurd.  This flexible person in my mind’s eye, well, she just doesn’t exist in reality. Do we all decide how we should be and quietly berate ourselves for not measuring up? The hum of disapproval vibrating in our minds.

I have discovered I am much happier when I operate in the world from the truth of my behavior. I am not a good traveler for all my so-called good intentions, and now, I travel prepared – stomach cures, sleeping pills and power bars. I am who I am and I will not be entering the Amazing Race, ever.

When I return from my girls’ trips, I feel softened and empowered. I only go now with one other girlfriend because, well, we’re selfish.  My girlfriend and I met in the first few weeks of college. We have always been mistaken for sisters as we look, dress and act similarly even to this day. We are so much alike, yet our life choices have lead us on very different paths. She is in international law and single. I am married, mother of two and working from my home…Yet we are still sisters. 

For about five days each year we live like sisters again…We giggle, gossip, tease, re-tell the same stories over and over again, shop, eat and drink too much, and listen to the new stories each has to tell.  We have tried to include others, but it doesn’t lead to good places.  The only men we talk to are named Hector and carry trays with umbrella drinks.  We have a fantastic time.

Even with our very different lives, we are able to support each other still. She helps me access my identity before the rest of life crowded in. She helps me play and frankly, stay young.

Several years ago she inspired me to get back into a bikini…I had not worn a bikini in maybe 10 years—I was a Mom, that time had past, my body wasn’t perfect. Again, I heard the hum of disapproval vibrating within. But I did it anyway, and you know what, I looked good.

I looked around the beach and everyone was in bikinis, with all their different bodies for the entire world to see. There were no perfect bodies. Even the sixteen year olds had cellulite. I didn’t have to be perfect. Finally, my mind’s eye had softened to embrace reality. The disapproving hum disappeared, only to be replaced by the crashing of waves and laughter of sisters.