I love the ocean. The sound of the waves, the smell of the salt, finding pretty pebbles and hag stones on the beaches, skimming stones on the water. Even the word ocean is beautiful.
And yet, I am terrified of it.
Two reasons: 1. have you ever seen whats in the ocean?! Not only is most of it unexplored – THERE COULD BE ANYTHING IN THERE, PEOPLE! – but I’m always scared of what’s underneath me, swirling around my legs. Eugh.
2. My best friend took her own life in the sea by her house. Yup, I’m bringing this blog post back to reality with a thump.
Searching for her is a memory that will always be lodged in my mind. If you’ve ever seen Inside Out, I think that day – those few days, actually – is a core memory that has shaped who I have become now.
As we were looking for her along the coast, going back to the sea since then, and especially at winter, has been majorly difficult. Not only that, but earlier this year, we also scattered my dog’s ashes in the sea as well. 2018 has been a bad year for water, for me.
Whenever I was on the coast – be it in Norfolk, Hampshire, or even Portugal – I would look out and think of my friend. We never found her, and there will always be that wondering – where are you? Staring at the waves, I know that she is out there somewhere, but I will never know where. It was horrible, and I began to avoid going to the coast, which is stupid, considering I live on an island – quite a big one, but still.
The ocean covers something like 70% of the earth, and it’s the realisation that she could be anywhere which scares me. I always thought – and still think – that the earth is tiny, especially compared to the rest of the universe, but thinking about it like that actually makes it rather big. It’s terrifyingly easy to disappear, especially where the ocean is concerned.
And yet- and yet. I’ve been putting off going to the coast this whole holiday, despite my dad asking me every time he goes, because it’s winter. The waves are big, it’s cold and horrible out, and I just thought it would be too painful. Then mum turned to me one day and said, “Perhaps it’s time to face your fear now.”
And I did.
And it really wasn’t that bad at all.
Not only was I just excited to be by the sea again, but instead of looking out there and thinking where are you? I looked out and thought I’m going to find out. I don’t mean literally, of course – she’ll probably never be found – but what I mean is that I’m not going to be held in one place. The oceans connect every continent, and I plan on exploring them. Part of the grieving process is acceptance, and believe me when I say I’m still grieving, but I think that accepting that I can go back and be happy by the sea, a place which has always held such incredible memories, is a huge part of moving on. Instead of going to the coast and being sad, I want to be happy, and hope that, wherever she is, she is too.
The ocean should always be respected – it’s deadly, dangerous, and you shouldn’t play chicken – but I don’t think I need to fear it anymore. I don’t think my friend would want me to be scared, and to be honest, life with a whole heap of fear sucks. It takes time to do anything scary, especially if it’s become a giant [sea] monster in your mind, like the ocean did in mine, but I’m relieved I don’t feel the need to be fearful any longer.
Hannah Writes 
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