Our car drives over the bridge on the morning of July 28th, a Saturday, and I can’t help but smile to myself. I’m back in my favorite place on Earth, Long Beach Island. My siblings and I cheer as we drive onto the island, windows rolled down with the sea breeze hitting our faces. As we coast down the boulevard, I see all of the stores that I love so much. It’s pure heaven to know that in just 10 minutes my mouth will be filled with the most delicious donuts from Marvels, the best bakery on the whole island. We pass Rita’s and Meltdown, my favorite ice cream places on the planet. I look back at my siblings, who are struggling to contain their excitement. We’re home.

We pull up to our house; it is the same house my family has rented for the past twenty years. My sister Meghan and I jump out of the car and run up the stairs to see Fran and Nancy Coleman, the owners of the house. They’re basically my aunt and uncle. As we hug and fill each other in on our summers so far, I realize I still have a smile on my face. I guess that’s just what happens when you’re in the happiest place on earth.

Downstairs, my brother and dad are unpacking the car. Meghan and I say goodbye to Fran and Nancy and go and grab our things. Exhilarated, I grab my suitcase and joyfully burst open the door to the house. I quickly unpack my suitcase in the room I’ve always had, the middle one with the big bed. I rapidly change into a bathing suit, eager to get my toes in some LBI sand. I pack my beach bag, grab some Marvels and my surfboard, and I’m out the door. I keep telling myself to stay positive, that this year our vacation will be different. I really hope I’m right.

Three years ago, my life did a complete 180 and flipped upside down. When my parents got divorced, I didn’t think much would change, and I have never been more wrong about something. My dad moved to Ramsey, my mom to Oakland, and my siblings and I moved about every other day. It had a rough impact on my entire family, but especially my dad. My dad has always been one of my best friends, my go to guy, but after the divorce I didn’t view him that way anymore. His negative transformation caused many things not to sparkle like they used to, one of these things being Long Beach Island. Without my mom, the trip was something I began to dread. After that first divorced summer, my dad and I grew further and further apart. I didn’t see him as my best friend anymore. Finishing my eighth grade year, I moved in full time with my mom. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, it was like losing a piece of my heart that I knew I could never fully get back. But although my father and I no longer lived together, we still shared one house in LBI.

When the immediate wounds of the divorce began to heal, I found myself finding ways to restore fun in our family vacation. I tried desperately to mend my broken paradise, binding up the tears that the divorce had caused. Friends and family would stay with me, helping to ease the burden I felt. I spent more time at the beach and biking places. I took my siblings for walks and to play football on the beach at night. So, although my dad may have slightly diminished my heaven on earth, I found ways to restore Long Beach Island to what it was when I was twelve, back to its original carefree feeling.

I’ve learned so much about myself, my patience, and the ways in which I cope with anxiety these past three summers at LBI than ever before. Spending two weeks every year with my dad and siblings has taught me many valuable things about who I am. I am a more understanding person, one who is patient and tries to be kind. And although LBI now comes with some strings attached, it will never leave the special place it has both notched out and healed in my heart. The happiness that island brings me is something I can never give up. I am 16 now, and I still cry like a baby leaving Beach Haven Terrace. No matter what changes at 105 East Pennsylvania Ave, Long Beach Island will always be what I call home.

I walk up the dunes as fast as I can. As soon as I reach the top and see that mass of blue, I make a run for it. I lay my towel on the soft sand, take my hair out of its ponytail and jump into the ocean. I’m still smiling. I can’t seem to get rid of it. I have a good feeling about this year, I think to myself. And as a wave comes, I find myself diving headfirst into my favorite two weeks of the year.