Why We Love Fall So Much
PSL season hits different after a heat wave. Plus, debunking apple cider vinegar.
Ever since I was a little girl, summer was my favourite season. After cold Canadian winters that dragged on too long, and a long school year that stretched into the hot days of late June, summer felt like a release. Summers of my youth looked like pool-hopping, staying out until 3AM any day of the week because every day was the weekend, and days spent racing to finish ice cream cones that dripped down our hands at the beach. It was a time before I worried about my weight, when I bared my skin with no hesitation; when emotions ran high rather than buried away; when I did what I wanted and listened to my body. Summer once meant inhibition; catharsis; freedom.
But then my mom died at the end of June one summer, and the sunny season became tinged with darkness. What once was leisure time became too much time to be left with my thoughts. In the absence of order and control that came from caregiving for my mom from a young age, I now faced a v…