Everyone wants to be a coastal grandmother, but for all the wrong reasons. On social media, the coastal grandmother shops at local farmer's markets, vacations in Cape Cod, and eats lobster at every meal. She's Emily Gilmore hosting Friday night dinners in her Connecticut mansion — a purely aspirational aesthetic. But this viral ideal is one that would have my actual coastal grandmother calling BS.

As a young girl, my family of five stayed with my coastal grandmother in the same three-bed one-bath home my father grew up in. "If there's floor room, there's sleeping room!" Grammy liked to proclaim. We spent summers together on a blow-up mattress in a converted garage, shopped at Walmart, chased after fireflies, and explored the rocky beaches of Kittery, Maine. (Grammy called the 60°F water "refreshing.") It was simple, and it was perfect.

The coastal grandmother I grew up with didn't care about Instagrammable routines or luxury living. She'd sooner splurge on fresh scallops than a designer bag, and the only thing she wanted for Christmas was a restock of her favorite Dunkin' K-Cups. So when I got the opportunity to return to Maine for a coastal wellness retreat, I wanted to experience it from the perspective of an actual coastal grandmother. No complicated routines or viral trends, just back to basics. Here's everything I learned (and everything the internet gets wrong) about coastal wellness — coming from a coastal granddaughter. 

— Chandler Plante