In which I feel attractive

I recently visited Virginia Beach with my youth group for a conference (YEC–if you ever get the chance to go, do!!). A friend and I decided to go for a walk on the boardwalk one morning after breakfast. So here we were–strolling along the beach, talking about everything and nothing, laughing at ladies walking little dogs, watching people swim in the frigid ocean. The wind carried the smell of salt and brine; it whipped at our clothes and blew back our hair. I think we both felt the same way. Attractive. Like we were in a movie. Or magazine. Or something.

We passed several other youth groups who’d had the same idea. One such group seemed to be comprised entirely of semi-cute guys; they were huddled up, football-style, presumably trying to find their hotel. As we approached them, I looked at my friend. She looked at me. We sort of grinned. Because we felt attractive. Like we were in a movie. Or magazine. Or something.

So, as we walked by them, I in my flannel shirt and her in her North Face jacket and ripped jeans, hair streaming behind us, faces flushed with the cold, we said, in unison, but quietly because we were a LITTLE shy, “Hey.”

One guy sort of glanced up, saw us, and went back to their heated discussion.

We walked on past them, still feeling attractive. Like we were in a movie. Or magazine. Or something.

That’s when my friend looked at me again and said, very casually, “Hey Tabitha?”


“I don’t know which one is our hotel.”

We stopped walking and stared at the myriad mini-skyscrapers lining the boardwalk.

“I think it’s that way,” I pointed.


We did get back to our hotel. (I was wrong. It was THAT way.) We met up with some other girls from our youth group, who laughingly told us that they’d been doing Sports Illustrated Poses on the beach while we’d been unsuccessfully flirting with another youth group. Y’all, that was one unforgettable youth trip. And the moral of this story?

Find yourself a youth group who does stupid things occasionally, that way you don’t feel so bad.


And yes, this story is entirely based on a true occurrence. Stop judging. And leave me a comment please! And remember that when you’re on the beach with your youth group, you can be the cover model of Sports Illustrated. Or you can be so attractive that you could be in a movie. Or magazine. Or something.



2 thoughts on “In which I feel attractive

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