Everyone Should Have An Island

I was eighteen, half a year into my “freshman year” of culinary school. My externship was fast approaching and I had no clue where I was going to get a job/live/any of it. The career fair rolled around and crowds are my kryptonite so I only made one interview for the next day before I bailed. I hadn’t even heard of Nantucket and I certainly didn’t know where it was.


Luckily, I had some yellow pants at the ready for my first Daffodil Weekend!

Fast forward one interview, five years, three jobs and a big move off island and I finally got to go there on vacation.

I woke up when I pleased and had pastries from a bakery right down the street from one of my old apartments. I strolled  through town on the arm of my number one guy in his Nantucket red’s and chose where to eat based solely on where I loved eating on island. I selected beaches to spend the day at based on what was the most beautiful spot with the right kind of waves for our intentions, not because of proximity to work and ease of getting there when the fun had to end.

Present day: Vacation Experts

Present day: Vacation Experts

I ran with my dog in the morning and drank champagne with my oysters at night. We went out every night we had it in us and stayed in when we felt like it, never feeling the day off “have to have all the fun!” pressure. Somewhere around day three, our talk of moving back lost what it had in whimsy and redoubled in fervor.

In our element and in the kitchen

In our element & in the kitchen

It took leaving and going back to truly understand this, but I pose to you the assertion that everyone, everyone, should have an island. I suppose your island does not have to technically be an island, but it should feel about the same. Running into old friends left and right, never having to ask if they’ll be at the old spots. The feeling of salt air making you a better person, the humidity ruining your hair turning your usual vanity into freedom.

I feel more like I’m going home when I’m on my way to Nantucket than I’ve ever felt on the ferry back to the mainland. You can feel that way about an island, you can feel that way about an instrument, you can feel that way about your couch but I think it’s vital to health and happiness that you feel that way about something in your life. ♥


Panorama of Steps Beach, Nantucket, MA

Do you have an island? Do we share an island? Is your couch your island?? Let’s talk about it in the comments below ;)


  1. larissa says

    I understand this soo much! You only realise every little thing you loved when you leave! Hopefully I can visit this August!

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