The first time I felt truly free in the ocean was when I was 23. Standing waist-deep, I watched a wave crest towards me. Instead of fear, I felt a rush of exhilaration.
The ocean was not a place I felt safe in when I was growing up in Australia. My parents are both Fijian, but they have never learned how to swim. Although tourists and residents of the coast enjoy the crystal-blue waters, the large Fijian Indian population on the islands rarely swims.
When we arrived in Australia, my dad took swimming lessons, but he never became a good swimmer. Our trips to the beaches were limited to picnics, building sandcastles, and splashing around in the shallows.
All Australian children learn to swim at a young age. As we became more confident in the water, a new barrier appeared. The modesty of the Muslim faith for women made it more difficult to find swimwear as we aged.
I was a teenager who hated the beach. My family always stood out with our baggy t-shirts and knee-length board shorts. They were cumbersome and hot in the sand and the water. My aunts and mother in their hijabs were a sign of our differences. I felt embarrassed when I saw other people in bathing suits and bikinis because I knew that they were not in line with the values I had been taught.
It wasn’t easy to navigate a beach trip with friends. I wanted to be accepted, but I felt uncomfortable wearing swimwear that exposed my arms and legs. While I stopped practicing Islam, I still held onto the lessons I was taught about modesty. Even today, the thought of wearing a bikini is horrifying to me.
Chris was my partner. Every Christmas, his family spends time on the south coast of New South Wales. If I wanted to be part of the fun, I had to get used to the ocean quickly.
When I first joined Chris’s extended family for Christmas, I was only 23. Online, I found a pair of swimsuits that fit me. The pair I bought was not particularly stylish, but they made me comfortable. I wanted to go swimming with everyone else.
When we got to Dalmeny Beach and stood in front of the crashing waves, I realized that I didn’t know how to swim in the sea. Wasn’t the first wave going to knock me over?
Chris patiently told me: “You must duck or dive.” He spent the next 10 mins showing me how to duck or dive under the waves to avoid being slapped by the water. He showed me how to spot rips and where to mark the shore to ensure I didn’t get pulled into one by mistake.
The next day, I was enjoying the ocean. It was the unique feeling of freshness from a morning swim and the sheer joy of treading the water as the sun went down. It was a milestone to be stung for the first time by a bluebottle.
Since then, I have found the beach to be a place of safety. I go to the beach to spend time with my family, watch my dog run up and down dunes, or have a deep conversation.
The South Coast is my favorite place to be on a hot day. The water is cool, but the sand and sea breeze keep the mosquitoes away.
Occasionally, I see my family at the beach, with women in loose-flowing clothing and hijabs and men in board shorts and rash vests. They are enjoying the sun and sand.
Now that I’m on the other side of the fence, I realize the insecurities I had as a youngster did not reflect the reality. I no longer feel any pity or judgment towards these families.
Although they may dress differently, their enjoyment of the beach is no different from any other Aussie. We all share the same feeling of being lucky to live near these beautiful beaches, which are amongst the best in the world. Wish I had seen this when I was young. Maybe I would have been able to enjoy the ocean sooner.
