3.4 Miles

When I saw the sign that said, “Ouray KOA,” I grinned and cheered. Like, for real. There was actual fist pumping happening in my car. I’d done it!! I made my first solo drive…my first drive through the mountains. And it was snowy at times, and visibility wasn’t great, and other times the roads were dry and it was smooth sailing. And I did it.

Then, 3.4 miles from my hotel, I was overcome by emotion. I couldn’t believe I’d done it.

I know I’ve come a long way in the days since March 17th. My growth has truly been exponential . It started off slow, and rocky, and…okay, okay, it was non-existent. My first several months afterwards I didn’t want to experience my reality. I wanted to ignore it. And I did just about anything I could to escape it.

When you ignore your reality, you can’t exactly grow.

And that’s absolutely okay. I was in survival mode. That was all I could hang on to – just take one more breath, girl. You can do this. One breath at a time.

And then, one magical day, I was ready.

And I took off.

Today, I’m a new me. Someone who sits alone at a bar in a strange city and happily eats her food, smiling to herself every now and then, not giving a care in the world.

I’m someone who drives through the snowy mountains because there’s a city she’s waited to go to for years and years and she’s done waiting for someone else to bring her here.

I’m done waiting. Period. If I want it, I will figure out a way to do it. Because I’m alive and breathing and that’s all the reason I need.

I’m also still learning. Sure, I’ve come a long way. I believe it never ends, though. There are always ways I can improve. Things I can nurture and refine. I’m finding the balance between pushing myself and simply marinating in the moment. I haven’t quite figured that out yet. I tend to live by the rule it’s either all or it’s nothing. Do it right the first time or don’t do it at all. I’m all in. Or I’m out. And I’m learning that perhaps there’s a better, more delicate space to land…perhaps.

In Greece, I learned a lesson that just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. My whole purpose of going to Greece, though, was to prove to myself that I can. So, I did. And then I thought I was good. I had countless epiphanies over there. My very energy changed. I didn’t have anything left to prove to myself.

Or so I thought.

So, let me back up a minute. Give you some context. Yesterday I left for a road trip through the mountains…with my front wheel drive Mini Cooper…through a minor snowstorm. I decided to embark on yet another solo journey, this magnificent road trip, because I’ve realized I still have more I want to prove to myself. I still have fears that require facing. Insecurities. Doubts.

I absolutely hate doubting myself.

So, I booked this trip. And, after much fret and worry, finally took off. Goodness, I’m less than 24 hours into this trip and I’m already grateful I didn’t back out.

As I looked out on the scenery during the drive, I noticed all the variety of shades of white that exist in nature. It was just white on white on white. In front of me, all around me, surrounding me. Just white. It was stunning.

I drank it in. Really experienced where I was. And I was in no hurry whatsoever. I took detours to take pictures. I saw bighorn sheep!!

I took so many deep breaths. Just so I could exhale. I needed to exhale the voices in my head. The ones that told me I was incapable. And then I spent some time talking to myself, rather than wasting time listening to those voices. This time, the incapability was of driving in the snow. I’ve been told many times that I can’t drive in the snow, or that I shouldn’t drive in the snow. And, I have also had many circumstances where I’ve proven to myself that maybe I shouldn’t ever drive in the snow. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s been told to me and then reinforced. I can’t do it.

Which is exactly why I’m here today, having driven not only through the snow, but through snow covered roads, with limited visibility at times, over winding s-curved mountain passes.

Face my fear. I’m all in. I know no other way.

So, this is why, 3.4 miles away from my hotel, I lost it. The tears simply struck and didn’t let up for several minutes. It was the release I needed. Another fear conquered. Another lesson learned. I can do scary things. And survive.

And then reflect and realize there was nothing scary about it after all.

So, here, now, I encourage you. Do something that scares you. Something you’ve avoided because you keep listening to the voices in your head rather than talking to yourself. Create your new narrative. It isn’t as scary as you’re making it out to be.

I promise.