Pressures Of Summer

Pressures Of Summer

The scent of Bronze Goddess, the endless beach pics on Instagram, the text that asks you if you’re going to be around this weekend when all you wanted to do was just stay home and relax. Summer is supposed to be easy, light, and carefree. Yet, why does it sometimes feel like a competition? Sometimes I feel like there’s a checklist of things I have to do that I’m silently failing. All those trips I haven’t taken, barbecues I haven’t attended, sunsets I haven’t photographed.

The other day my daughter said something that stuck with me: “Unpopular opinion, but I like it when it’s gloomy outside in the summer.” She said it almost shyly, as if she had to apologize for not loving constant sunshine, the way we’re supposed to. But I knew exactly what she meant. On gloomy days, there’s no pressure to make the most of the weather. I can be at work without feeling guilty. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on something magical happening outside my window. There’s a strange peace in just existing without the weight of expectations.

Because that’s what summer has become for many of us: an expectation. And not just of fun and relaxation, but the pressure to accomplish something. There’s the silent summer to-do list of projects: clean out the garage, organize the closets, plant the flower beds, start reading the book you’ve been meaning to. And when September rolls around and you haven’t got through half your check-list, we quietly wonder if we’ve somehow failed Summer 101.

I used to be the person who had to squeeze out every last bit of these months. Every sunny day meant another outing, another plan, another photo-worthy moment. I measured the success of my summer by how many fun things I could pack into it. Now, I’m softer about it. I still tell myself I should make the most of it, perhaps visit old friends, do something fun once a week. I’ve started asking myself the harder question: Why do I feel like I have to accomplish something?

Some of it is nostalgia for those endless childhood summers. Some of it is the influence of social media and I’m not immune to it. I can scroll through people’s feeds and immediately feel like their photos are better than mine: cleaner, more professional, more curated. Their vacations look dreamier, their families more photogenic, their careers more impressive. I’ve caught myself spiraling into the old competition trap, asking myself why I don’t look like that, why doesn’t my work come across like theirs. It’s the digital version of standing outside a party you weren’t invited to.

And the truth is, I’ve been told by people I respect to “stay in your lane. Focus on you. Stay true to what you’re doing.” I know they’re right. But summer heightens it for everyone. Summer sunlight feels like a spotlight, showing you all the ways you think you’re falling short compared to someone else’s highlight reel. And that “compare and despair” spiral is real. Research shows that nearly 9 in 10 young people feel worse about themselves when they compare their lives to the images of others online. Adults aren’t immune to this unhealthy addiction of comparing our lives to others. We’re just better at hiding it.

The thing about comparison is that it never stops at envy. If you let it linger, it becomes resentment. Resentment of others but also resentment of yourself. You start resenting the fact that you didn’t book that trip, that you didn’t plan those outings, that you didn’t look like you were having as much fun as you should have had. And resentment, I’ve learned, is the fastest way to drain the joy out of anything, even a season that’s supposed to be about joy and fun.

And here’s the kicker: this pressure isn’t just in my head. Surveys show that nearly half of Americans feel more stressed and anxious during summer than other seasons, with many reporting sleep issues and even depression. For parents, it’s even more intense: one in three millennial parents expect to have their most stressful summer yet, with hardly a single anxiety-free day. Balancing kids’ schedules, unpredictable routines, and the absence of personal downtime wears people down, yet we’re still somehow expected to “make the most” of it.

And here’s the bigger question: Are we any happier because of all the stuff we cram into our lives? Happiness, as much as we like to complicate it, doesn’t usually come from “stuff.” The science is clear. Happiness comes from experiences, from moments of connection, from feeling like you belong. That’s a whole other article, but it’s worth asking: Is cramming our summer full of activity actually giving us the happiness we want or is it just filling the calendar so we can feel like we’re keeping busy?

I remember one summer in particular when I did “all the things.” I planned the beach days, the barbecues, the dinners with friends. I said yes to invitations I didn’t even want to go to, just to prove to myself that I was “living it up.” I came home from some of those days sunburned, tired, and somewhat empty. I had the photos. I had the proof. But I didn’t have the feeling. The connection. The deep exhale of contentment. That’s when I realized that filling your schedule is not the same thing as filling your life.

That’s why my daughter’s comment about loving gloomy days felt most profound. It was a reminder that it’s okay to opt out sometimes. That we don’t owe summer anything. That we can give ourselves permission to do less, to enjoy what we enjoy, even if it’s not what everyone else is doing.

I’ve had summers where my calendar was full but my soul wasn’t. And I’ve had others where a single quiet evening with no makeup, sitting outside, and listening to the crickets meant more than any big event I tried to orchestrate. The truth is, the best moments rarely happen under pressure.

Maybe the perfect summer isn’t the one with the most plans, but the one where you stop trying to prove anything to yourself or anyone else. Where you live your own life instead of measuring it against someone else’s. Where you let yourself rest, even when the world tells you to “make the most” of it. And maybe the best memories aren’t the ones you post; they’re the ones you actually live. n

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst. She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit TamaraGestetner.com to learn more.