The Fourth Annual Life Lessons Essay Contest
Find out how to enter Real Simple’s yearly contest.
Inspired by a seemingly perfect day at the beach this past summer, I read the rules and procedures for this contest and decided I had nothing to lose. Below is the final copy, after many, many tweeks, edits, and revisions.
The Road Home
At age 24 and a half I know I still have a vast majority of life’s experiences ahead of me. I have had my fair share of incredible opportunities and experiences and I have been inspired first hand by the people around me. I have crossed many milestones in my 24 and a half years but I know that most of my life still remains a mystery and wonder in my future. Although I have countless lessons still to learn, numerous goals to set and reach, and a myriad of genuine people to meet, one thing is for sure. At age 24 and a half, I have learned what love is.
It was a mid-summer Sunday and the weather could not have been more perfect for a day at the beach. I had just moved back under my mom’s roof, after finishing graduate school in Queens, New York. Post-graduation is a time in one’s life where stress levels begin to rise, hearts begin to race, and fingers remain crossed that the perfect job will pop up at the perfect time. My heart seemed to race extra fast lately, always wondering where my next job might land me. By this point I had written dozens of cover letters and resumes with high hopes that someone would want to hire me. After spending the past six years in Queens, moving home was a vast change of scenery for sure, and one I was anxious to embrace.
That Sunday morning the skies dawned a clear, brightly blazing blue, which carried through the morning and throughout the entire afternoon. A few of my girlfriends were back home in Connecticut for the weekend so we packed our coolers, then packed the car, and spent the day lying on the soft sand of Ocean Beach in New London. We were just over an hour from my hometown of Cheshire, where I have always called home.
Our day at Ocean Beach was wonderful and instantly refreshing as it put my racing mind at ease. The girls and I told recent life stories and caught up on missed time together. We generously applied our sunscreen and ate some healthy beach snacks while sharing enlightening magazine articles. We napped. We laughed. We listened to music. We were able to truly relax in good company. As I lay on the sizzling sand I thought about how happy I was to be back home in Connecticut. As the sun crept lower in the sky and our skin turned that spicy shade of red, we realized it was time to head home. I sat in the back seat of my friend’s car and our beach hair became even more tangled as the wind whipped through our open windows. My friend decided to avoid our fellow beach goers on I-95 and took Route 1 across the shoreline of Connecticut. It was easy for us to agree on putting our life soundtrack into the CD player, AKA Ingrid Michaelson, and enjoyed her petite voice playing loudly through the speakers. The four of us sang along in what we thought was perfect harmonization and memorization of her strong lyrics.
The ride continued on through the shoreline towns, and as I sang, I stared out the window at the beautiful water parallel to us. It was during the drive that I realized just how beautiful Connecticut is and how much such a small state can really offer to its inhabitants. Connecticut is not often thought of as a tourist destination; most people only see it’s jersey barriers while driving through it and onto their further destinations. I believe it is the simple things in life that keep me the happiest, and there seemed nothing simpler than a drive home with my friends that put a smile on my face as it warmed my heart. Each small town was more beautiful than the last. That day could not have been more perfect. I saw the water at the marinas glistening underneath the boats that call those docks their home. I saw cute ma’n’pop shops with clever names, such as, “Beaches and Cream” lining the two-lane, yellow-lined street that we cruised along, looking as if we were part of a summertime music video. I saw American flags proudly swaying in the breeze and restaurants’ outdoor picnic tables packed with people enjoying the most picture-perfect summer evening. I saw a cliché brick schoolhouse that looked so welcoming and just plain adorable.
My move home from New York City was filled with peace and tranquility. The scenery I was in on our drive home from the beach that day would be nonexistent in the big city. Moving from a hustled metropolis to a serene suburb granted me peace of mind. I had such an awe-inspiring experience during that drive that it became clear- I fell in such a deep love with the state of Connecticut, but more importantly I understood this love to mean that fate had moved me back home, to where I belong, after being away for seemingly too long.
Avoiding the bleak highway was the best decision of the day, and my mind and soul were thankful. I do not know if it was the way the sun sparkled in the picturesque sky or if it was seeing an area of my home state that I had never seen before, but the warmth I felt inside my heart and the delight and pure thrill that I was feeling from the backseat of the car could only mean one thing- I understood this mix of emotions to be love. I believe in fate, and the fate that moved me back home from New York was the same fate that drove us down gorgeous Route 1. It was obvious. This was the meaning of love because I was passionate about it, and it seemed so passionate about me as well, showing off its beauty to please me. This was the meaning of love because it was mutual, because it was fulfilling. It filled me with bliss. It provided a simple, never-ending smile on my face as we kept driving along. This was the meaning of love because it brought out the best in me and gave me an even stronger reason to believe in fate. The world all seemed to come together for me that day. My past led me here, back to my home, my future belonged here, and I was presently experiencing and understanding these strong sensations of love. To me, love was Connecticut and the fate that brought me back.
To those that believe you can’t return home again, this was great proof that you can. I took the road back home and it was through this enlightening experience that I now know my home will always be in Connecticut. That day showed me a genuine love and a strong understanding that Connecticut is where I was meant to be, Connecticut is where I will live and find a job, and Connecticut is where I will continue to be happy. This all became so clear to me while I cruised down those beautiful streets on my way home after such a joyous day. I now clearly understood what love was. I understood the meaning of love in my heart was comforting me and providing an overwhelmingly calm feeling mixed with the small butterflies of excitement. I understood the meaning of love in my mind was putting the worry and racing thoughts to rest. I now understood what it meant to love the place where I grew up, the place that I returned to after six years away, and the place that welcomed me back so fatefully and unconditionally.
And friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home sweet home
For there the heart can rest."
~Henry Van Dyke
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