We must remember we are only human

LAST week, I wrote about swimming in the Atlantic Ocean for the first time since I was a teenager. I’d always loved swimming at Inchydoney Beach, but had stopped when I found myself becoming more self conscious due to cripplingly negative body image.
I explained what a magical experience it was, that July afternoon at Barleycove when I finally satisfied my yearning for salt water, but something else happened that day. Earlier, I was eating lunch when I was suddenly inspired to visit Mizen Head. It would be amazing. Those cliffs, the terrible wildness, the wind blowing the cobwebs away after another night’s sleep broken by a dead heat pressing down upon me. Perfect.