Loving openly, with oceans divide.

by Savannah Mcmillan (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown Mexico

The Caribbean splash brushed through my toes as I looked out at the water from the steadiness of the sand. The earth. Below my feet. A sacred place of stillness I hadn't been for some while... She introduced me to Mexico at a time of self exploration and rebirth. She was a girl I fell in love with, a girl swam with, exploring the waters of our new reality. Both recently out as queer women, with open hearts and open minds we sought a new experience. Perhaps an escape from our respective social constructs. A change of landscape. Mine, from West country England. Her, from an American Catholic family. Together, we ventured into the unknown. We found ourselves in Mexico. Immediately, I felt liberated by the all colour - pastel pinks, blues, yellows. The castanets picking up my feet and urging me to dance, despite their hesitation. The light, so far removed from the loyal dreary grey cloud I was accustomed to. A wave of meat and sweat hit my nose and I was captivated. The mezcal goaded me go. We drove through the maze of humans haggling on the street, selling dreamcatchers and tropical fruits, toward the serenity of the open water. I was mesmerised as my eyes flickered from the deep green blue pools that were Her eyes, to the water behind Her. My feet touched the sand. I inhaled a salty breeze. I exhaled at the silence, screaming. I was home. We were together in our alone. As the sun sank into the ocean the smell of cooked tilapia, coriander, lime, drew us back to the village. Families gathered in 5s, 6s, 8s... All gathered in harmony under candle light. The wood fire oven comforted me. I looked across at Her, sun-kissed and beaming. We were free, a wave of peace eased me. Joy circled above us as a live band played and locals cheered. The air was warm, our feet bare. We sat on the wood and drew comfort from the jungle around us. Trees towering over our heads as we used our hands to clench the taco shells. I salivated. Her laughing as drool dripped from the side of my mouth. I didn't care. I ate furiously, ravenously, like an animal as the kind waiter dropped more dishes on the table: elote, carnitas, steak, beans, rice - we indulged until we couldn't fathom anymore. The following day we traveled to a cenote - a tranquil haven according to the Mayans. I've never seen anything quite as beautiful. The cave ceiling collapses in and opens a window to this new world of possibility. It aligned with the both of us. The light gently pours through the hole and you bathe, inside the cave, the clean turquoise water submerging you. The only sound was the gentle drip of water and you are alone with your thoughts. All I felt was gratitude. There, in that moment, with the woman I love - no other thought of past or future had any relevance. The man who guided us didn't speak, only glided through the water around the cave occasionally pausing to admire the shapes made by the years of natural erosion. We were appreciating the shapes of the rocks. A perspective was drawn as we were so happy, without the material things we'd relied on from our previous day to day. I didn't think about my laptop or social media or friends opinions - nothing. It was deliciously us, in this moment. Nothing else mattered. As I veered away from the group, I swam on solo and my mind went to the chronology of water in my life. Swimming in open waters, the uncertainty of carving the trail with my own rules, the excitement of rising and the fear of drowning, the freedom liberating but the water unpredictable. No walls, no protection. Is loving Her enough? Loving openly, with oceans divide. I rejoined the group. I looked at Her, knowing there are many obstacles to come. But felt certain on my own journey - the possibilities, as the light bounced off my face and I stared up to the world. Wanting to see more, feel more, live more. More. I found my voice.