Confession: despite the fact that I call this space “Her New Leaf,” trying new things has never really been a strength of mine. I like to do the things I do because I think I’m good at them. One time Marcus tried to teach me how to play tennis, and less than an hour into our “lesson,” I cried and made him take me home. I can’t be the only one who does things like this, right?
By starting my blog and naming it what I did, I hoped it would become something of a mantra; a reminder that it is okay to try new things and to not succeed at them the first time.
So when my friends decided to plan a ski trip this weekend, I said I would go. I smiled. I acted excited. But the truth is that the last time I skied, I looked like this:
Circa 1991 with my grandparents in Vermont
So, knowing what you now know about me, I’m sure you can imagine how I really felt.
But I did it, guys. I snow-suited up, strapped on my rental skis, and did it. Did I fall as soon as I stood up? Yes. Did I spend more time face down in the snow than up on my skis? Yes. Was I in tears before I reached the bottom of my first “green run?” Yes. But I was seriously so proud of myself for accomplishing something that nearly every kid in New England has accomplished by the time they are six years old.
Seriously, by the end of the day, I was bragging about everything from how well I had learned to fall to how well I could walk in my ski boots. I was begging my bruises to appear so I could show them off like badges of honor.
Maybe you’re the kind of person who tries new things all the time – I envy those people. But this lesson is for the homebodies, the people who thrive on routine and start to panic when things are out of the ordinary.
Go skiing. You can’t stop and quit halfway down the mountain. You can take all day if you want (and if you have a very patient boyfriend), but you’ll eventually get to the bottom. Just beware of snowboarders. ; )