This past winter in the Midwest was a systemic shock. There is no gentler way to put it. Coming back to this climate, feeling that heavy, gray, bone-chilling freeze, I found myself counting down the weeks until the world finally thawed. I wasn’t just waiting for the temperature to rise; I was longing for a specific frequency of existence.
This is my first full summer back in America. It also happens to be the summer I turn 40.
In Ghanaian culture, entering your forties isn't something to hide. It’s the official induction into your grown-woman era, a time when you stop asking for permission and start claiming your space. And because of that milestone, I have a very specific, uncompromising vision for the next three months. I want travel. I want slowness. I want beauty, festivals, sweet stone fruit, and discovery. I want the beautiful chaos of sending my three kids to American summer camp for the very first time, a rite of passage that feels so uniquely American to watch them step into. We only live in the floating rock for a moment. A blip.
And as a water sign, I take being near the water with absolute seriousness. I want the swimsuits, the sexiness, and the long, uninterrupted days where the sun melts away every lingering remnant of that brutal winter frost.
But if you have three kids, you know that spontaneity in America is a logistical battlefield. The sheer mental load of getting everyone out the door can kill the vibe before you even turn the ignition. Have you ever tried to get three toddlers to put on their shoes with urgency?!
To pull off a summer of this magnitude, I realized I had to rely on my old training. I had to look back to my time at the State Department.
The Tradecraft: Go Bags vs. Stay Bags
In my previous life navigating global logistics and diplomatic environments, readiness wasn’t a lifestyle aesthetic, it was a literal survival mechanism. We lived by the rigid gospel of two distinct setups:
The Go Bag (Agility & Evacuation): This is your 72-hour lifeline. It sits by your front door or in your trunk, packed with the absolute essentials: legal documents, cash in multiple currencies, flashlights, water purification, and emergency rations. It operates on a single assumption: The environment has turned hostile, and you need to move right now without friction.
The Stay Bag (Endurance & Lockdown): This is what you keep at the office for when things go sideways but you cannot leave. If an embassy goes into lockdown, your Stay Bag holds the items that preserve your dignity and stamina over forty-eight to seventy-two hours: a fresh change of clothes, proper toiletries, comfort snacks, and extra phone chargers.
Diplomacy cures you of the illusion that stability is permanent. Years later, I still maintain this tradition. I have versions of these bags in my home, my office, and the trunk of my car.
But recently, I was listening to NPR’s It’s Been a Minute, and the hosts started talking about the concept of a "Summer Go Bag." They joked about umbrellas, picnic blankets, and the eternal struggle of finding a sunscreen that actually works.
It hit me right in the chest: Why do we only apply strict, rigorous readiness to crises? Why do we only pack with intensity when we are trying to survive a worst-case scenario? This summer, I am reclaiming the tradecraft. I am transitioning from defensive readiness (surviving a crisis) to offensive readiness (claiming my joy).
The Manifest: My Turning-40 Summer Go Bag
The Summer Go Bag is my spontaneity insurance. It means that when the sun hits perfectly on a Tuesday afternoon, or a festival lineup drops, or the kids get home from camp and the beach is calling, we don't spend ninety minutes negotiating logistics. We just grab the handles and go. As a Ghanaian-American woman, a mother of three, and a water sign turning 40, my manifest requires a few non-negotiables that you won't find in a standard lifestyle blog:
1. The Protection (Zero White Cast)
"To Garrett's point about sunscreen, I have so many friends who still don't wear sunscreen. It blows my mind. Some of them make me look like the Blair Witch. Yes, the white cast is real." — It's Been a Minute
We are absolutely not doing the Blair Witch aesthetic this year. Protecting rich, brown skin requires the right formulation. My bag permanently houses a high-end, completely sheer sunscreen (no ashiness, no purple tint, no ghost-lit look in family photos). It’s a mandatory line item for me and the kids before anyone steps into the sun. I love Black Girl sunscreen and my go-to Korean brands I purchased on my last trip to Seoul.
2. The Hair & Skin Restoration Kit
As a Black woman who loves the water, the beach isn't just a trip, it’s a major hair operation. You cannot take water seriously without a plan for the aftermath. My bag includes:
A heavy-duty leave-in conditioner and detangling spray to immediately melt away the effects of chlorine and salt water for me and the kids.
A jar of pure shea oil or high-quality body butter to seal in moisture the second we step off the sand, because the Midwest sun will dry you out if you let it.
Satin-lined caps or wraps for the drive home.
3. The Infrastructure for Slowness
The Premium Beach Umbrella: As the podcast rightly noted, you cannot have a luxurious, hours-long beach day if you are fighting heat exhaustion under the glare of the sun. True slowness requires a micro-climate of shade.
The Drawstring Picnic Blanket: This lives permanently in the trunk. It’s compact, portable, and turns any impromptu park visit, festival lawn, or sandy shore into an immediate lounge setup.
4. The Grown-Woman Essentials
The "Turning 40" Swimsuit: This is not a utilitarian, "let me chase a toddler" mom-suit. This is something intentional, confident, and unapologetically sexy.
High-End Hydration: A heavy-duty insulated flask filled with ice-cold water—and perhaps a separate, smaller one with something crisp and sparkling for festival afternoons.
Quick-Dry Turkish Towels: Traditional terrycloth towels are heavy, take forever to dry, and hold sand like a magnet. Turkish towels pack down flat, weigh nothing, dry in minutes, and double as a chic wrap or head covering.
5. The Three-Kid Camp Reset
The Post-Camp Cleanse: A pack of heavy-duty body wipes and three pre-rolled, lightweight changes of clothes for the kids so we can transition from the camp bus straight to the water without a pitstop at home.
Non-Melting Fuel: High-protein snacks that won't turn into a sad, melted sludge in a hot car.
The Ultimate State of Readiness
Turning 40 feels a lot like realizing you finally know exactly what needs to go into your life’s Go Bag. You spend your twenties and thirties packing for everyone else, anticipating every conceivable emergency, and trying to fit your vibrant, expansive identity into boxes that are too small for you.
This summer, the bag is packed entirely for pleasure, beauty, and presence. The kids are taken care of, the infrastructure is in the trunk, the sunscreen is clear, and the element is calling. We survived the winter. We earned this sun.
We are ready!