*The following was written last year but I am finally posting ... stay tuned for more as I recently went skydiving just last weekend ...
I turned 50 years old last September. At first I tried to deny it - even hide it - but believe it or not, like it or not - it happened anyway! My husband and I were still adjusting to being empty nesters and just the thought of growing older was out of my comfort zone; but as I leaned into the inevitable, it unleashed a beast inside of me that longed for more! Perhaps it was a midlife crisis of sorts, but I was on a mission to bust through my comfort zone, face my fears, complete a variety of bucket list adventures, and most importantly prove to myself all that I was capable of!
It actually started a couple years before when I turned 48 – the age my father was when he passed away over 20 years ago. Part of me had almost assumed I wouldn’t live beyond my 40’s - but I did - and I was still counting! You see, statistics showed that people in my family were either destined to die by the age of 50 from a genetic form of cancer or we were likely to live to nearly 100 years old (or more). Since then, I learned that I did not have the cancer gene (and thankfully neither did our children), so there was a good chance I still had half my life yet to live.
At that same time, our youngest daughter had recently left for college, and for a moment, I was certain that my purpose for living was gone. I grieved for a time - but not for long; and once my tears had dried, I began gathering the pieces of myself that had been tucked away behind motherly duties and sprinkled into words of advice that I shared with our kids. I worked hard on my mindset and, with a fresh focus and support from my husband, I made it a mission to try new things, meet new people and do anything that scared me in any way. I had always had a growth mindset and enjoyed checking goals off my bucket list - but this time was different - this time it got serious!
For years, fear had held me back and kept me safe inside my comfort zone - but midlife and losing loved ones had made me well aware of the fragility of life and had taught me the importance of living life to the fullest.
So I tried lots of new things. I started saying “yes” when my fears begged me to say “no.” I started meeting new people and trying new hobbies. That first summer, I took up biking with an old friend, and my husband and I decided we should learn to golf. The month after I turned 50, my friend and I completed our first 5K. We actually signed up in the 40-49 year old age bracket (I wasn’t quite ready to admit to being 50). Our race-time was not impressive, but we humorously felt we earned at least some bragging rights by passing a total of nine people and two dogs. I also learned to play pool (billiards), and be okay with failing among experts; and I found that their skill and encouragement helped me keep trying. I joined a pool league with my husband where circumstances were such that I sometimes had to show up alone before my husband could get there. Walking into the pool hall alone, I felt like all eyes were on me and my heart palpitated in my chest as I chalked my cue and got ready to start the first game. I feared that people would judge me if I missed an easy shot. But no one seemed to give it much thought and it got easier with time.
As an introvert, just hanging out with new friends was scary and the pandemic had tried to shut down my social skills even further. But little did I know that by stretching my comfort zone, I would open up a whole new world, gain confidence in myself, enjoy more quality time with my husband and acquire new friends I would grow closer to with time.
When originally making my bucket list, I had the misconceived notion that it should be about big, grandiose events - speaking in front of a large crowd, taking a solo trip across the country, or skydiving from an airplane 14,000 feet in the air.
Skydiving was actually on the list - I was planning it around our son’s wedding the next fall. I joked that we had to jump early enough in the summer so that if I got bruised or broke a bone I would still have time to heal before the wedding. I had been talking about it with a new friend for months, and I almost had it scheduled; but when it came time to book it, he canceled. Perhaps it was fear or perhaps it was the golf tournament he’d be missing out on … but it didn’t matter.
Reflecting, I realized I didn’t need to jump out of a plane. My comfort zone was already being stretched in other, seemingly smaller ways; but yet in each of these moments, the first leap was just as scary and the thrill and rush of anxiety were often just as intense. Unfortunately, there was no parachute or tandem to protect me, though my husband was usually there as a great support.
I did actually end up speaking in public. The opportunity presented itself out of nowhere. It was the night of our spring scholarship event where we were planning to give out our annual engineering scholarship in memory of my brother who had passed away from cancer. The scheduled speaker could not arrive to give their speech, others in my family had COVID; and I was the only person available to attend the event, meet the recipient and present the award - on stage in an auditorium filled with over 300 high school students and their families. But I embraced the moment - walked in alone, cleared my throat, presented my speech - and survived.
The next summer, as a much wiser 50 ½ year old, I signed up for another 5K (in the correct age bracket this time), bought a new set of golf clubs, and continued practicing for another season of pool league. I added new goals to my bucket list such as playing in the State Pool Tournament someday. It was also still on the list to jump out of a plane - even if I had to do it alone. But by then I knew that it wasn’t really about the big things. I had learned that, while the little things could be just as scary, their wins were often more impactful; but in the end, the landing should be a little softer, I likely wouldn’t break any bones, and chances were good that I would still be alive to see my son get married in the fall. Maybe I’d convince my future grand kids to skydive with me someday. You never know. But no matter what, my plan was to continue crushing my comfort zone for ideally another 50 years …
