Ah, fall. It's that glorious time of year when the harsh heat of summer fades, the leaves turn a lovely shade of orange and the coffee shops sell pumpkin-spice-everything. While I celebrate the end of 90-degree weather and glance lovingly at the yoga pants that have sat nearly untouched for months, I frown slightly at the legs that those yoga pants cover.
This summer, I actually made an attempt to get a natural tan. I'd grab a towel, listen to some music and throw on a bikini to sit in my yard and soak up some rays like a character in a 1970s baby oil commercial. I volunteered to mow the yard just to get some color. I stepped outside of my indoor-sy comfort zone in hopes of adding to my glow. I was so close. I was almost bronze.
And now, tan, autumn seems bent on taking you away from me. The last few days have been rainy and I even had to break out a cardigan yesterday. A cardigan! I wish I could have my pumpkin pie and eat it, too, but I can't. I have to accept that.
Thank you, summer tan, for giving me a glow that prompted my dad to stop buying me vitamins because he thought I looked ill. Thank you for giving me the confidence to go without foundation and making me feel like some sort of mid-western beach babe when I let my hair stay wild. Thank you for letting me wear black without looking like a vampire and navy blue without feeling like I was glowing in every picture. You made my teeth look whiter and I'll never forget that.
I know you have to go, now. I know. The clouds are coming in and I just can't bring myself to pay $30 a month to toast myself in a bed, again. I'm sorry. I know it's better this way. Everyone says you're unhealthy and that it'd be better for me to buy you in a bottle, but it's just not the same. I'm sorry that I took you for granted the last month or two and I'm sorry that I just assumed you'd stick around. My natural skin tone falls on the fair side of the spectrum; I realize that, now.
It's time to move on. So hello, big sweaters and black leggings, and goodbye, natural summer tan. I know you're just my skin trying to protect itself from the sun's harsh ultraviolet rays but, dammit, I'm going to miss you.
