Take It from the Top

Have you ever considered why you want to travel? Is it to visit faraway places, learn a new language? Change of scenery, change of life? Perhaps you nurture fantasies about meeting distinguished strangers or sunbathing on tropical beaches.

My dreams of France frequently strayed to fields of lavender in Provence and the hurried charms of Paris. But they always returned to one theme: the elusive "live life to the fullest." Not long after graduating from college, I was stuck in a "life transition" and headed across the Atlantic attempting to forcefully kick-start the next phase.

"Live for the moment" became my mantra; shedding inhibitions, the mission. Trying new foods, becoming immersed in a language I'd studied briefly long ago, even hitchhiking. Great or small, I dared myself to scale all of the fences I'd built, pushing myself to the glamour of the "fullness" that lie beyond routine and habit.

What I found during my summer in France was a series of tiny, beautiful, meaningful adventures that linked their metaphoric little arms and uplifted me, at the end of the trip, to a crowning experience that punctuated the journey and changed my outlook on life, the world, and myself.

So what did I do? I frolicked on the beach and swam in the Atlantic at Biarritz- topless. That was it. That simple, ageless, uncontroversial European tradition, topless sunbathing and swimming, sparked my creativity, elevated my self confidence exponentially, and filled my heart with joy. I was so full of myself that afternoon, I hit my head on a cloud.

At first nervous and painfully aware of every physical flaw, I joined a crowded beach with my boyfriend and we set down our towels and our butts. A few minutes later, I popped up and started looking for signs of fellow women engaging in some innocent freedom. Fearful I'd look like I was leering at these women I envied, I glanced sideways, tentatively, until I was satisfied that the arbitrary number of women I needed to be topless were, in fact, wearing only Bain de Soleil from the waist up.

Then, as if every person on the beach had eyes trained on my exhibitionism, I awkwardly unfastened the top of my bathing suit and flopped--you guessed it--on my stomach. As if nursing a powerful sunburn already, I assumed instantly my "enthralled in a great book" position. Eventually my boyfriend and I sprinted into the waves, where I welcomed the water's nurturing translucence (but not transparency!)

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