Meg

It was a rainy, windy day in November (a hurricane to be precise) when I first stepped into the icy ocean, clutching the hand of a stranger, another woman who was also taking her initial dip. That was almost 3 years ago and I've since been back to that cove- with that woman, who is now a dear friend- countless times. 

It was post-pandemic and I was a newish mom in a newish town. I was feeling anxious, a little lonely, and all together disconnected. I  felt weighed down by the routines and ruminations and had refused any time to myself. When a new friend invited me for a swim with a group of women, I knew it was an opportunity I shouldn't ignore. 

Swimming in the icy water at the mouth of the Merrimack River has rewilded me. A quiet and reflective pre-dawn dip grounds me and prepares me for the day ahead. A boisterous plunge, hand-in-hand with my newfound cackling tribe of mermaids, reminds me that I'm worthy of genuine connection and laughter. The cold water of that cove continues to gift me presence and peace.