Wildwood weekend with the family and Bae

Wildwood always feels like two worlds pressed together: the bright, spinning boardwalk and the quieter space behind it where the night settles in.

We spent the weekend with the family and Bae, the kind of trip that doesn’t ask much of you except to show up and keep walking. Up high, the pier looks like a small city built out of light—rides looping and creaking, crowds flowing in slow currents, the whole place humming like it has its own weather. Down on the boards, it’s simpler: a hand to hold, a few shared laughs, the familiar pause before stepping into another line.

I like how places like this keep their old voices. You can hear the structure living—metal groaning, music drifting, the constant shuffle of feet. And somehow, in the middle of all that noise, there’s a calm that slips in when you’re with the right people. You notice little things: the way neon reflects off the wood, the way the air cools when you step out of the crowd, the way the night makes everything feel slightly unreal.

It’s easy to measure a weekend by what you did. I’ll remember it more by how it felt: bright, loud, a little mysterious from a distance—and steady at the center, with family close and the boardwalk stretching out ahead.