sail away with me

We’ve been married two months today. I realized I never got around to writing about our blissful honeymoon, which I should do soon.

One of the highlights was the Baths on Virgin Gorda. Among these amazing boulder formations scattered around, there’s this very cool trail that you can take that the signs warn you is “challenging”, which made me nervous. I felt vulnerable climbing rocks in a bikini and flip flops and I’m just naturally a wuss about a lot of things.

But I let the Husband lead the way and put my hand in his. And climb we did, in between, over and under the boulders, up wooden ladders and scaling walls with some old rope to guide us. We saw the loveliest little pools and grottoes and at the very end of the trail was our prize – Devil’s Bay Beach. A less fitting name I cannot think of. The water was so calm and clear it was unreal. It was heavenly.

Although my feminist streak occasionally makes a showing, in some things I am all too willing to let the Husband take the lead. When I think of our trek through the rocks, it is impossible for me not to feel the symbolism of following my husband up and over obstacles, through the dark, and up into the light. I gave him my hand and my complete trust and just having him to guide me helped me be brave.

I can only imagine that difficulties we’ll encounter in the future will be a lot more challenging than a little beachside obstacle course but knowing that I have the Husband as my partner and my guide in both the rocky parts and the blissful parts means that I have no fear.