The Healing Power of Beach Walks: How I Found Myself Again at UCSB

My story at UCSB starts when I was just eleven years old. Touring the campus with my older brother, I had decided then and there that this school was the place for me. I spent the next seven years of my life infatuated with the prospect of living in Isla Vista, taking surfing lessons, tanning on the beach, and exploring the surrounding mountains, essentially soaking up every ounce of sun and salty air this community has to offer. With countless hours of studying and extracurriculars in high school, you could only imagine my joy when I got my acceptance letter and knew my hard work paid off. 

However, freshman year is a difficult time for many, and unfortunately, I was no exception. At my dream school, surrounded by amazing friends, amazing weather, and amazing views, I still felt out of place. My classes were challenging, I was homesick, and I questioned if I had made the right choice all those years ago. I called my hometown friends relentlessly — the girls who had been by my side for every up and down and pivotal moment of growth — and hung up feeling confused as to why they all seemed to be living their best life, while I was feeling so disappointed. 

However, after we all spoke a bit more, I slowly learned that everyone was keeping up the facade of perfection. While we all loved our universities and felt incredibly grateful, most of us thought that something was missing. It wasn’t that we were unhappy, but rather that social media had pushed on us unreasonable expectations for how college should be and feel — reminding us of the truth behind the saying “comparison is the thief of joy.” 

After one particularly difficult day, my mom suggested I go for a walk. Something so simple, a casual piece of advice to clear my head, and yet it was the start of my obsession. I walked that beach for eight miles, music blasting, thoughts churning, and endorphins rising. Those walks became my constant. Some days I went with friends, some days I went alone. With every tide, I learned to let go of expectations — of perfection, of immediate belonging — and instead started noticing the little things: the laughter from children playing, the pelicans flying in formation, the sound of someone playing guitar in the distance. Slowly, UCSB stopped feeling like a dream I was trying to live up to and started feeling like a home I was growing into. 

I realized that home wasn’t something you simply arrived at: it was something you built, one step at a time. Each walk reminded me that I belonged here, not because I was living the perfect college dream, but because I had made space for myself within it. Yet, above just feelings, the evidence of the power of these nature walks is simply overwhelming; spending time outdoors lowers salivary cortisol levels and reduces activity in brain regions implicated in rumination. It became more than just casual walks for enjoyment; it became moments set aside to take care of myself amidst the college chaos. 

Walking down by the Goleta pier with the scent of sunscreen and salt, the distant cheers from the volleyball courts, the way the cliffs caught the sunset just right, and the floods of laughter from families and friends grant me that escape from the Isla Vista bubble that consumes so many of us. It reminds me of the importance of slowing down, taking a breath, and separating oneself from the worries and responsibilities that feel all-consuming. When the tide is all the way out, you can walk the coast for countless hours, every step carrying you forward and out of the bubble.

Yet, when Isla Vista is calling your name and you’re missing the abundance of energy roaming the streets, walk down Del Playa, through Deveraux Beach, and into the North Ellwood Open Space Preserve and along the coastal cliffs. I never fail to smile and laugh to myself when I walk here on a sunny Friday afternoon, watching fellow college students cheer with their friends, play games in their front yards, bike and skateboard through the roads without a care — surfboards at their sides — and kick back on their balconies watching the good vibes from above. Then, when I make it to the North Ellwood Open Space Preserve, I’m greeted by the serene presence of various local wildlife, standing stoic and reminding me of what a privilege it is to attend school here.  

Slowly, through these walks, UCSB stopped feeling like a dream I was trying to live up to and started feeling like a home I was growing into. The same beach that once made me feel small now reminded me of how lucky I was to stand on it, to be part of this community, to carve out my own little space in it, to be a part of that laughter filling the air, to be not just a number on campus but a student contributing to the atmosphere that brings about our sunny Santa Barbara reputation.

Eleven-year-old me fell in love with the image of UCSB: the sunshine, the ocean, the good vibes. But what I’ve learned since arriving is that the real beauty here isn’t just in the view; it’s in the moments when the noise fades, the tide comes in, and you finally feel at peace. Every time I walk along that shoreline now, I thank that younger version of myself for dreaming big and the current version for staying long enough to make that dream a reality.

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