12/12/2024
"𝐈𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐈 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐌𝐞"
For most of my life, I lived in a box built by other people’s expectations. I grew up being told how to behave, what to wear, and even how to speak. "You have to be proper," they said. "Be like this, act like that." And so, I folded myself neatly into the mold they handed me. I smiled when I didn’t feel like it, said “yes” when I wanted to say “no,” and tried so hard to belong in spaces that didn’t feel like home.
But the cracks started showing. I felt like I was suffocating in my own skin.
Then one weekend, I agreed to join a friend on a hike. I remember dreading it at first. I thought, Why would anyone want to walk uphill for hours? But I went anyway, desperate for a break from everything.
The first few hours were tough. My legs burned, my lungs felt tight, and I kept wondering if I should just turn back. But then we reached the ridge, and for the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe. The wind was cool against my face, and the view stretched endlessly before me—trees, valleys, and clouds that seemed close enough to touch.
In that moment, I realized something. Nature didn’t care if I wore makeup or had the right clothes. The mountains didn’t ask me to smile or explain why I was quiet. The trail didn’t judge me for pausing to catch my breath. Out there, I didn’t have to perform.
The more I hiked, the more I felt the layers of expectation fall away. I started laughing freely, speaking my mind, and letting myself be quiet when I needed to be. I wore old, mismatched clothes without worrying about what anyone thought.
For the first time, I wasn’t trying to fit in—I just was.
Now, whenever I feel that old pressure creeping back, I head outdoors. I lace up my boots, throw on my backpack, and find a trail. Hiking isn’t just about the views or the adventure; it’s about the freedom to be me.
Out there, under the open sky, I found my courage. And I’ve learned to carry it with me, even when the mountains aren’t in sight.