Every June, I find myself in a fluorescent-lit fitting room, half-tangled in a swimsuit that appears to be made for a child gymnast. One leg in, one out, I do a little hop-turn combo that vaguely resembles an interpretive dance, and accidentally flash a terrified glimpse of myself in the mirror.

It is practically tradition now: the annual Summer Swimwear Meltdown.

Bathing suit season arrives with a whisper that feels more like a threat. Suddenly, we are expected to be glowing, toned, lightly tanned, and emotionally available for sunrise hikes. Cue the panic-Googling of “quick arm workouts,” “bloat-reducing foods,” and “how to wear a sarong like a carefree goddess (without crying in the changing room).”

We tell ourselves that this summer will be different. This summer, we will get it right.

Last month, for my holiday to Mexico, I packed my yoga gear, a gratitude journal, and a book about “intentional living.” I was determined to have a perfect, self-improving vacation. But reality had other plans. I lasted exactly one and a half sunrises. By day three, the journal had been repurposed as a coaster, I had spilled iced coffee on my mat, and I was rereading the same three pages repeatedly, completely unable to tell you what they said.

By then, I only intended to locate the nearest coffee shop and negotiate peace with a judgmental seagull.

However, somewhere between the sunburn and the surrender, I discovered something incredible: Summer does not want your perfection. It wants your presence.

Balance is not a rigid schedule of smoothies and sun salutations. Sometimes, it looks like sleeping in until the sun is unapologetically high, then wandering barefoot into the day with no plan beyond “coffee, eventually.” It is reading a beach novel with one eye open, smudged sunscreen on your pages, and a crinkled smile because, for once, you are not in a rush. (And yes, I did get sunburned.)

This summer, I am honouring the slow. I am giving up the fantasy of being my most optimized self and embracing the gloriously messy version who forgets to exfoliate, snacks before breakfast, and sometimes wears a beach cover-up to the grocery store because it feels right. It is about finding joy in the imperfect moments that do not fit into the ‘perfect summer’ narrative.

I keep relearning the quiet truth: You are not a before-and-after photo. You are not a productivity project. You are a whole, snack-craving, life-living person, even if your thighs jiggle (mine round of applause their way down the boardwalk) and your to-do list says “nap.”

So wear a swimsuit, the one you like, not the one that promises to “sculpt” you into someone else. Cancel the boot camp. Keep the yoga if you love it. Say yes to joy that does not count your calories. Let your mornings be slow and your afternoons deliciously lazy. It is about taking back control of your summer, prioritizing your comfort and joy over societal expectations.

Life is not in highlight reels; it is in the blurry, beautiful middle, the extra scoop of ice cream, the stretch of quiet after sunset, the unplanned laugh that escapes too loudly.

Let this be the summer you stop chasing the perfect version of yourself and start savouring the perfectly real one. It is about embracing who you are in all your imperfect, beautifully real glory.

Amy Tucker is a University Instructor at Thompson Rivers University and proudly calls herself an “accidental athlete.” As a senior swimmer and long-distance open water enthusiast, she has represented Team Canada on the Age-Group Triathlon Team for the past three years. Amy is passionate about encouraging others to embrace fitness and wellness at any stage of life, proving it’s never too late to chase new challenges.