I moved to Colorado from Delaware in December of 2008. Having had no interest in cold weather or snow prior to visiting in October of the same year. That visit was no coincidence- surrounded by mountainous landscape, breathing fresh thin air, I knew I was in a place that would nurture my healing. At that time, just being,  was enough. Thats all I could handle. The thought of snowboarding, mountain biking, or even hiking a peak would overstimulate my nervous system- internally I was exploring myself in the same ways most of us explore the mountains. It was a completely different way of life and I was living it just as I needed to at that time.

Toward the end of 2009,  my journey started to lead back to the East Coast where I would continue my healing by directly confronting other sources of pain.

Fast forward to 2013- My trek back to Colorado began. I held this place with high regard, I contributed much of my wellbeing to this place rather than the self work I had done here. This time around was a turbulent transition and nothing like the idea I had made up in my mind. Living next to an extremely toxic situation and lacking a support system, I felt depleted and lost.

Moving across the country is a pricey feat as well as the cost of living in a resort town- the idea of riding was great but the financial burden was greater and the pressure from friends to do it (or die so it seemed) was incredibly taxing. After a few resurfaced injuries and the opinions of others- My fear of snowboarding Mt. Crested Butte grew to an all time high. Now, I have snowboarded multiple mountains in PA and powder covered hillsides out here, I had even climbed Mt. CB but the thought of coming down on a snowboard intimidated the *&^% out of me.

Well, last weekend I put aside my ego, my attachment to outcome, and my growing fear. I said to myself- if your biggest fear in life right now is snowboarding a mountain then your living a good life, living the life you have dreamed of minus the fear. As I approached the lift my palms were sweating and my knees felt as though they were going to buckle. Tears started to come down behind my goggles as I realized how far Ive come and how blessed I am.

After getting off of the lift I had to sit and take it in for nearly 20 minutes while I argued with my self doubt. I had made it this far and I wasn’t about to get in my own way.  The first run took me nearly an hour to make it down the hill!  There were points I had wondered if I would make it- falling into tree wells, slamming kneecaps into hard pack snow, and getting stuck on the flatter parts reminding myself I’ve always grown in the face of challenges. There was one part in particular I was most nervous about coming down of course that part felt as though I floated down. I started to clap for myself making it down so smoothly knowing that by the time I made it to that section of the hill – I fully believed in myself- 100% trusted ME. Once wasn’t enough, I didn’t want to allow any space for fear to grow, so I went again. This was like my victory lap, my knees were hurting but my heart was soaring. Taking only 20 minutes to ride down smoothly, wrapped up in my self- belief, basking in radical self-love, filled with gratitude.

It was obvious I had reclaimed the power I had once given up. It took break downs that led to breaking in and eventually breaking through. Breaking through comfort zones, through the grips of fear and self doubt and breaking into the largest sense of faith Ive experienced yet.