By Hattie Hambridge
The Effect of the Water
Hattie Hambridge shares her story of swimming with her mum and sisters — a ritual of cold water, connection, and returning to yourself.
From childhood summers to winter plunges, their weekly swims are a reminder of how water grounds, strengthens, and softens us all.
The women in my family have been swimming on the same stretch of coastline for as long as I can remember. When my sisters and I were young my Mum would always take us to the beach, and we would spend whole summers at the shore.
Swimming at high tide and playing in the rock pools when the tide was low. Sunbathing and sleeping, diving, collecting crabs and seashells and making sandcastles by the edge of the water. Waiting patiently for the tide to rush in and fill our moats.
As we grew up naturally, we all relocated, and it’s only recently that we are all living in close proximity to one another again. Now at least once a week we all meet up for a swim together. We swim all year round and still spend whole weekends at the beach in summer. Now the colder months have come around, and we swim less, but it's much more apparent to me the effect the cold water has on my mind and my body.
Taking to the icy water in November takes a kind of courage that is always rewarded. There are days when I will sit on the shore unsure if I want to swim, but my sister will come out of the water looking so refreshed, altered by the waves, that I cannot resist. My mum always says “You never regret swimming, only not swimming.”
Repeated cold water exposure is proven to induce long-term benefits for mental health and recent scientific studies have revealed that cold water swimming can help to alleviate symptoms of depression and anxiety. For me, Winter makes everything a little harder. The lack of sun and less time outside seem to contribute to the possibility of struggling with my mood.
Sea swimming throughout the winter months is in my mind always worth the effort of taking all your clothes off on a cold and grey day and taking to the water. It's a reminder of how amazing my body is, in its ability to adapt to freezing cold temperatures.
My whole body and mind is re-awakened in the act of plunging into the water and rising to the surface. Some days my whole body will turn numb, with a tingling sensation like gentle stinging nettles that climbs from my toes to my shoulders as I submerge into the icy water.
When we swim, it feels like everything is surrendered at the shore, all the lists, the clutter, and the worries of the day float away. As I submerge myself in the cold water, I am the most present version of myself. There is a grounding that comes with floating on salt, as well as a feeling of strength.
To submerge your body into freezing water and to rise up out of it feeling alive and vibrant. The shock of the cold is fierce for a time but as my body adjusts to the temperature I am overcome with the feeling of pleasure. Beyond the immediate rush, there is a durability that gives me an energy that is elevating.
My sisters and I have grown up on the edge of the land, and swum through our adolescence together. We are all women now, each carrying our own complexities and identities, but when we swim together we become little girls again. Giggling and screeching as the water tempts us.
