Just because you love the ocean doesn’t mean you have to drown in it

I feel this on a deeper level, and it isn’t about love

To love ocean is to understand that sometimes, what gives you peace can also take you under.

“How do you want to die?”

If you asked my younger self, she’d definitely freak out, be confused and scared. She had a lot of hope inside her, filled with dreams and driven by passion and purpose. Dying was the last thing on her mind. In fact, it never even crossed her mind.

She believed there was still so much to live for, still so many colors to paint across the canvas of her life. Back then, death felt like a distant, shadowed corner somewhere she would never have to go.

But if you asked my 17-year-old self, the answer would be…
“I’d love to drown.”
It’s sad, almost tragic, but to me, it sounds like peace and freedom. I love the ocean so much that I’d want to spend the last hours of my life in it. I’d want my last breath to be taken by the water. Drowning seems like a different kind of heaven.

There’s something about surrendering to the currents that makes me believe in release, in giving up control to find something deeper. It’s as if the water can carry away all the weight I’ve held onto for so long.

In the arms of the ocean, I imagine feeling lighter than I ever have on land.

I envision myself wearing the prettiest white dress in the world. I’ve loved Greek mythology for as long as I can remember, and since then, white dresses have always looked so ethereal to me. So, why not die wearing one? There’s something sacred about white, about purity, about letting go while looking like a vision of peace. It’s as if the dress becomes a part of the ritual, a silent prayer to the universe. To walk into the ocean in a dress like that feels like walking into destiny, a farewell clothed in grace.

I imagine walking barefoot on the sand under a bright, full moon, with a calm, peaceful ocean. Slowly, I’d let the water embrace me as it holds me back from ending the life I’ve fought so hard to keep. Until finally, the water would rise above my head, and I’d just lay there, letting it take me wherever it wants. I’d open my eyes and watch the moon’s light grow smaller and smaller until it was the last thing I saw before my final breath.

I wonder if, in that moment, I’d find the peace I’ve chased for so long. Maybe the ocean knows a kind of freedom I’ve never been able to give myself.

It’s weird, right? Fascinating over my own death. But if that’s what would bring me peace, I’d imagine it again and again without a second thought. Death isn’t so much an end as it is a doorway into the unknown, and maybe I’m more curious than afraid. Sometimes I wonder if the real tragedy is never finding a place where you feel at home, where your soul can rest. The ocean feels like home to me, the only place that understands the weight of my thoughts and dreams. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to it.

I love the color blue. For a long time, I was certain it was royal blue, but now, any shade of blue will do. As long as it’s blue, it’s my favorite. I used to think I liked it because I was tired of pink. Being the only daughter, everything I had was pink my clothes, shoes, bags, even almost the entire house. I thought maybe I didn’t want to be so “girly” anymore, so I chose a color that’s often associated with boys.

But it turns out I love blue because it’s the color of the ocean when I’m sitting on the beach. I love blue because it’s the color of the sky when I’m staring at the sunset. It turns out I love blue because it’s the color that brings me peace when I look at the ocean and the sky. Blue has always been there, reminding me that life is both vast and deep, that I am a part of something much larger than myself. It holds my sadness, my joy, my uncertainty all at once.

I can’t quiet my mind, nor can I quiet the world. And for a long time, I thought I’d be forever haunted by its noise. But the ocean gave me an escape. When I’m underwater, I don’t feel the weight of people’s voices, their expectations of who I should be. I can’t even hear my own mind telling me all the things I’m not good at. All I hear are the faint whispers of the water, telling me to calm down. It’s almost as if the ocean speaks a language I can finally understand.

Beneath the surface, I don’t have to be anyone. I can just be.

It’s become a habit to sit by the ocean and watch the waves roll in, forgetting everything and just breathing. It’s the only time I truly feel alive. I love watching the waves, whether calm or wild. I love the ocean because every time the waves leave the shore, they always come back. It’s a reassurance that, even though the water that calms me may fall back, it will always return.

Being by the ocean gives me inner peace. The sound of the splashing waves has become my favorite music. When I’m at the beach, it feels like my soul climbs out of my body and becomes one with the sun and sea. My favorite sound is the ocean and how it makes my mind feel… peaceful.

In that moment, I find the parts of myself I’ve lost, the fragments I thought were gone forever. The ocean is the only place where I feel whole.

Just because you love the ocean doesn’t mean you have to drown in it.

But what if sinking, with no one knowing where I am, feels better? The water holds me in a way no one else can. It cradles me in silence, in understanding. Maybe it’s just because I love the ocean so much that drowning is the only way I can think of to stay there forever. But perhaps, in time, I’ll learn that I don’t need to stay forever to belong.

After all, the ocean is not meant to keep you, it’s meant to remind you how to let go.

Dear lovely souls,

I hope this article speaks to you the way it did to me. It’s more than just words it’s a piece of my heart, something that found light after walking through very hopeless and dark days.

“Just because you love the ocean doesn’t mean you have to drown in it” became a reminder for me that even in moments of overwhelming weight, it’s not the time to give up. Life has its tides, but no matter how far the waves pull you away, they always return.

There are still oceans waiting for me to visit, still shores I haven’t touched, and I’ve realized that life despite its storms is worth enduring if it means I’ll one day swim in every sea I dream of.

If you ever feel lost or overwhelmed, I suggest trying ocean therapy. It’s true that being near the ocean can calm the mind. Studies show that staring at the ocean can indeed change brain wave patterns, inducing a mild meditative state. The color blue is linked to feelings of peace and calm, while the sound of the waves the ebb and flow relaxes the brain, helping you center yourself and breathe a little easier. There’s something almost magical in how nature heals, in how the ocean reminds us to flow instead of fight.

If you’re struggling, remember: the ocean doesn’t drown what it loves. It embraces. It holds. It heals. Maybe, like the ocean, you can find your way back to the shore, one gentle wave at a time.

With all my heart,
Vina

P.S. The National Center for Mental Health Crisis Hotline is available 24/7. You can call them at 0966–351–4518 for support.