We all have fears. We’re all afraid of something, whether that be spiders, snakes, or something heavy like commitment. Maybe you’re someone who considers themself to be fear-free, but I’d put money on the fact that if you dug a layer or two deep, there’d be something that makes your skin crawl.
I have two big fears. One of them is blood. I get queasy, lightheaded, and squeamish at the sight and thought of it. I’ve even fainted a few times from seeing it. Let’s just say, I’d rather do anything in the world than have to deal with blood.
My other fear is skiing. I know, I know— skiing is an incredibly fun and enjoyable sport for so many people. I just happened to have a traumatizing experience the first time I went, and after that, I wrote it off for what I thought would be forever.
I have no plans to curb my fear of blood. I will do whatever it is necessary to avoid it, and for the occasional times I have to get blood drawn, I mentally prepare for literally days before. I can’t fathom trying to work through that fear, which probably means I need A LOT of help, but that one just isn’t going to get resolved.
Skiing, though, is a fear I am actively trying to overcome, and I am in the perfect place to do that. Salt Lake City is surrounded by world-class ski resorts. People come from all over the globe to ski the mountains around here, and I’m lucky enough to say I live within 30 minutes of many of the resorts.
When I first decided I was going to move here, everyone would ask if I ski or snowboard. Just the thought of strapping skis onto my feet and riding a lift to the top of a mountain made me uneasy, let alone actually doing it. I knew that I wanted to overcome this fear once I got here. I knew that I needed to overcome this fear, too. I don’t necessarily see this right now as learning a fun winter sport. I mostly see this as proving to myself that I can do hard things.
A few weeks back I took a couple lessons at a nearby resort. My first one was a solo lesson with an instructor. I needed one-on-one attention and to verbalize that I was terrified of skiing. That was really the only way I was even going to get into skis. A group lesson was just going to have to wait until I had a one-on-one under my belt.
I remember literally shaking in my boots while listening to my instructor talk about his love for skiing. I couldn’t really concentrate on anything he was saying. I was too busy trying to come up with an excuse as to why I had to leave the lesson. I silently wished for a meteor to hit just so I didn’t have to get on the lift and ski down the hill, and I know, that’s absurdly dramatic but that’s how scared I was to learn.
Before we got on the lift my instructor asked me where I was from. I usually start by saying “Massachusetts”, but when I said that he asked, “where about in Mass?” I answered with, “about 45 minutes outside of Boston.” He then said, “oh nice, I’m from Greenfield.”
For some reason, that commonality made me feel a little bit at ease, enough for me to ride with him to the top of a green trail and attempt to ski to the bottom.
I am so thankful for that one-on-one lesson. My instructor had way more confidence in me than I had in myself. He urged me to ski faster than I had been going and to look out at the views on my way down. When I first told him that I was really scared to learn how to ski, he said, “this is a challenge you’ll have for your whole life.” When he said “challenge” he meant learning how to improve and get better. Not battling my fear. That’s when I started to switch my mentality from “fear” to “challenge”.
I’d love to say that I have overcome my fear of skiing and I only see it as a challenge now, but that’s simply not the truth. Every time I think about skiing, I feel this tang of uneasiness in my stomach. Simultaneously, I feel completely out of control and fear for my life while rushing down the side of a mountain. I have yet to work through those initial reactions, but I know the more I ski, the fewer thoughts I’ll have. With each run and each day, I’ll slip away from that fear and see it as a challenge, even if that’s a long time from now.
So, why am I putting myself through this torture? Why am I forcing myself to learn how to ski when I could easily just cast it aside like I did with my fear of blood? I’ll tell you my reasoning:
I cannot convey how beautiful the mountains are here. If I am this enamored with them from afar, I am dying to see all of them up close.
Skiing is a sport I can take with me regardless of where I go. Mountains are mountains, and if I know how to ski, I can go anywhere and enjoy them.
No part of me wants to sit in my apartment and miss out on having fun. I’m here, and I’m going to make the most of it.
I want to show myself that I am capable of standing up despite how many times I literally fall.
I do not want to take the easy way out anymore. I don’t want to get comfortable with accepting what I know and how I feel when what I really want is the opposite.
A few people have asked me if my plans are to become a “ski bum” now that I’m no longer a working professional. Let me set the record straight. In no world am I considered a “ski bum”. I have no right claiming that title, and quite frankly, I don’t want it. I’ll leave that for the experts and enthusiasts who live for ski season. I will be happy if I can successfully ski down blue trails by the end of the winter and feel in control of myself. That’s a win for me.
Just one other thing I want to add, too— not leaving my job would have been the easy way out. It would have been me staying comfortable with accepting what I know and how I feel when what I really want is the opposite. So, honestly, learning how to ski at the same time I quit my job is me being really uncomfortable. It’s me really stepping outside of my comfort zone, and showing to myself that I am capable of getting up every single time I fall.
You may have fears that don’t really need to be addressed. If you’re afraid of snakes or spiders, will that actually debilitate you? Probably not. Will my fear of blood really debilitate me? Possibly but that’s another story. However, if you can conquer a fear that will teach you how to do the hard things in life, I urge you to start chipping away at it. You don’t need to tackle it all at once. You can start small and consistently regain control. That’s admirable, too.
If falling on my ass a few times is what it’ll take for me to see these mountains up close and personal, than I’m willing to sacrifice my comfort for some soreness. I’ve only skied a few times since being here, but what I’ve gathered so far is that if you stay at the bottom of where you are, you’ll never see new views.
Here’s to hoping that by the end of ski season, I can say that I look at a pair of skis and feel excited, in control, and ready. Here’s to hoping you overcome your fears, too and can say the same.
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