I did my 50th skydive on Monday.
It feels crazy to have just typed that out.
In order to set the scene here, we need to go back at least a decade… When I was little (think somewhere in elementary school), I somehow stumbled upon a video of this insane activity – skydiving. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to try it. In the United States, you have to be at least 18 years old to skydive, so I asked my dad if he would come with me on my birthday. Most likely considering how far away I was from being 18, and the probability of me forgetting the deal entirely by then, he said yes.
Believe it or not, I didn’t forget. So on August 14, 2015, a few months after my birthday, my dad and I drove up to Lebanon, Maine to do tandem skydives at Skydive New England. I was the first tandem to leave the plane and my dad was the last. I remember being in the door, looking out at the ground below, and thinking “here we go”.
Fast forward to a few minutes later – I can still picture landing from the jump, running over to my dad once he landed, and blurting out “I’m going to get my license”.
Over six years later, on September 19, 2021, I did just that. Load 14, A-100973.
I did my first jump course at SNE on May 23, 2021. I didn’t know a single person who jumped there let alone a single person who actually skydived, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something I needed to do. I had been thinking about getting this license for six years and had run out of (somewhat justifiable) reasons not to do it. So despite being so far outside my comfort zone I couldn’t even see the line it started on, I walked out of my apartment, got in my car, drove up to Lebanon, Maine for the second time in my life, and never looked back.
When friends asked where I disappeared to each weekend, I would vaguely reply with “Maine” and then try my best to subtly change the topic. If I’m honest with myself, I think my closest friends knew exactly what I was doing each weekend. (Maybe it was because they could see me on Find My Friends or maybe it was because they simply know me well enough to know I was never actually kidding when I “joked” about wanting to skydive.)
Whether they knew what I was up to or not didn’t really matter because I wasn’t ready to talk about it. This sport, as incredible as it is, is not a conventional weekend activity. It’s not something people are used to hearing about, and some people are better than others when it comes to hiding expressions of fear or sheer horror at the thought of it. So I’ll own it – for a while, I kept this all to myself because I wasn’t ready for that conversation. I wasn’t ready to have a friend or even acquaintance question what I was doing or why I was doing it when I was still working through those questions myself. I wasn’t ready for someone to point out the element of danger that is inherent in the sport. I wasn’t ready for someone to try to talk me out of what I was doing before I was 100% confident I was going to keep doing it no matter what. I wasn’t ready for someone to instill doubt in my mind about one of the first things I’ve ever truly done for myself and no one else.
It took me about ten skydives before I opened up about where I really was on weekends, before I felt ready to talk about this new addiction, and before I was confident enough in my decision to share it with people who may or may not support me and continue to do it anyways.
I cannot thank this sport enough because it helped build confidence in ways I didn’t know I had in me.
Skydiving forces you to confront fear in one of the most unique ways possible. It pushes you so far beyond your comfort zone you start to not recognize yourself before. It forces you to trust yourself, back yourself, and make decisions for yourself. You don’t have the time to second guess or hesitate. You make a call and own it.
And the best part? This is just the beginning.
LoDro 