I want to say I remember the exact date. I do not; however, that does not take the meaning, luster, or any other adjective to describe the importance of this day away.

I was a sophomore in college and still was having trouble finding a friend who truly made me feel comfortable talking about my cerebral Palsy. I felt that until I explained it, I would not have that authentic friendship I so desired.

Anyway, I believe it was a gloomy day in September or October at Mitchell College in New London, CT.

I remember it like it was yesterday —- which is saying something because the story starts with me on the phone with my mom — it probably was the 1000 time I talked to her that day. Still, this time was unlike the rest: she called, and I did not moan and groan about how much work I had to do; instead, she asked me what I was doing.

It was probably four p.m., and I was lying in bed sleeping to mask my anxiety about making friends. I said, “Nothing.” “Well, what can you do?” She asked. Then, in a voice of trepidation, I said:

“The basketball team is holding a clinic for Special Olympics CT.

I did not want to go because — though I would be volunteering — I did not want to be associated with individuals whose disabilities are apparen, as I told myself that I did not have friends because of the way I walk.

After the event, everyone was given Pizza. I took mine and scarfed it down because I probably had not eaten all day due to my anxiety.

While eating as fast as I could, I choked, and this player on the school team offered me his drink. I eventually stopped choking, and we sat on the gym steps for hours, talking about life and basketball.

After explaining to him how my Cerebral affects me, he said, “Do me a favor; we are not going to refer to it as a disability; we are going to refer to it as an OPPORTUNITY!

I must have looked at him as if a bear was attacking me. Still, about six years later, I am grateful that I have learned that I have an OPPORTUNITY to impact people using my disability POSITIVELY.

I was born & raised in the hottest city on earth, MIAMI! Yet, it’s 95 degrees outside on a Saturday afternoon and I have on a leather jacket. In fact, on any day of the week in the heat I wore a jacket. I don’t know how I survived the heat wearing a jacket for so long without passing out but the weight of my insecurities always covered me. I was so subconscious about my skin and being underweight that I didn’t like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t like looking at my body uncovered. Honestly, I just didn’t like “ME”. So, I threw on a jacket and it put my mind at ease to cover up my body. I didn’t always think this way about myself but when I constantly heard this in all aspects of my life, I started to believe it to be true. I believed something was wrong with my body. Until a few years later, I was invited to creative direct for Miami Swim Fashion Week and one of the models dropped out at the last minute and the designer was a dear friend of mine. She desperately asked me to walk in the fashion show for her in a two piece bathing suit. No cover up no beach jacket, just a 2 string bathing suit. Before she could get it all out, I immediately froze and I turned to her and said “I’LL DO IT!”. But in the back of my mind, all the color left my body and I wanted to break down and cry. In the midst of all my intrusive thoughts, I kept hearing my subconscious tell me “THIS IS YOUR TIME TO BREAK FREE, ITS TIME TO LET GO!”. I immediately scrambled to the dressing room to change clothes and with less than 5 minutes to get into hair & make up, I put on my bathing suit and made my way to the stage and in the midst of me walking out to the crowd my heart was beating a millions miles a minute and I closed my eyes to tell myself “YOU GOT THIS!”. Moments later I opened my eyes and began strutting down the runway. I immediately felt this overwhelming power let go of me, and that became an out of body experience. I started to feel like no one else was in the room but me and all of the lights, like I was floating. I felt amazing I felt so free, especially not with a heavy leather jacket on that was not only weighing down on my body but it was harboring my spirit too. I left that stage that day realizing that I am divinely made, one of kind and most importantly, it’s ok to love myself and my body. I LOVE ME

Dear readers,
My heart and soul (and blood, sweat and tears!) for the past 26 years, has been to provide a comfort zone for my three children. While the zone’s physical boundaries were ever shifting, from townhouse in Michigan, to apartment in Japan, to a spec build back in Michigan, home has always been their place of comfort. Throughout the years, the zone’s emotional boundaries were always in flux as well. The walls of love, security, and trust held fast through the cries of infancy to the high school graduations, from the Terrible Two’s to the college drop-offs, from the 1st day of school to the wedding aisle!
Since moving my youngest off to college this fall, I’m in a new and awkward dis-comfort zone, the empty nest. I realize that creating and maintaining my kids’ comfort zone had become MY comfort zone. I’m leaving this comfort zone, ready or not. What will my next one be?

To my mentor, friend, and father figure,

It’s hard to believe that it’s been over two years since we crossed paths. Does it sound vain if I say it’s even harder to believe how far I’ve come since then? Before you came into my life, I was a nobody with nothing. I was a thirty-something with no spouse, child, “real” job, degree, drivers’ license, or close friends and family. All I had was a couple hundred extra pounds of weight, a mountain of bills I couldn’t afford, and a disability that killed my chances of a normal life.

I found your work about a year before we met. It was Summer 2020, at the height of COVID restrictions. By then, I’d resigned myself to my idle, isolated existence. My life was never going to get better, so there was no point in living anymore. I spent my days just waiting to die, either by my own hand or by slowly eating and drinking myself into an early grave, until I saw something that changed my life. You.

While mindlessly scrolling through my phone one day, I happened upon a video of your work. Something about it intrigued me enough to click on it, and I’m so glad I did! In the character you created, I saw someone like myself who had fallen short of the benchmarks of adulthood in every way imaginable. By the end of the video you had me crying along with you, and coming from a woman who hides behind stoicism and silence, that’s saying a lot!

For the first time in many years, I wasn’t misunderstood and alone. For the first time, I had hope that I wasn’t too far gone to make something of my life. I made a choice that day that I would survive the pandemic in hopes of someday thanking the man responsible for that video.
It was a warm Florida night when I got my chance. There’s no need to ask if you remember. You promised you wouldn’t forget, and you’re the type of person who remembers everything anyway. While I know you remember the night itself, I don’t think you know what I had to go through to be there. I never told you how scared and sick I was because I was afraid you’d judge me, but now I don’t think you would.

Getting to that event in Florida meant flying for the first time in my life, something I was afraid to do. I wasn’t scared of the actual flight; I was scared of everything that could go wrong up to that point. What if the TSA harassed me? What if the airline lost my reservation or forgot to assign me both of the seats I booked? What if the baggage handlers lost my luggage? What if the other passengers fat-shamed me? Worse yet, what if I went through all of that only to have my flight delayed or canceled?

I was awake worrying the entire night before my flight, and by the time my cab arrived, my stomach was in knots. Part of me wanted to back out and write the trip off as a lost cause, but I didn’t. I owed it to you to show up.

That flight wasn’t the only time I had to step outside my comfort zone on that journey. By the time the event itself rolled around, I was running on too little sleep and too much to drink. My legs were so swollen that I could barely walk underneath the long dress I wore to hide my body, yet walking into that room was exactly what I did. As I looked around, I saw men and women in their designer clothing and fine jewelry, talking amongst themselves. Then it hit me. They all knew each other, and I didn’t know anyone!

What right did I have to stand among them? I was just the fat, awkward weirdo in the cheap Walmart dress. It was only a matter of time before everyone in that room, including you, would figure out that I didn’t belong there! I wanted to walk right back out the door before that happened, but I’d come too far to turn back. This might be my only chance to thank you for the inspiration your work gave me when I needed it most.

I stood along the wall next to a promo kiosk, far out of the way so as not to say the wrong thing and annoy others. Despite my best efforts, I still managed to make an idiot of myself by mistaking one of the event’s most important attendees for a kiosk employee. I was mortified! What if I made a mistake like that when I tried to talk to you? What if that person warned you to steer clear of me because I was so weird and rude? I didn’t want to take that chance!

For the second time that night, I wanted to run away. For the second time, I didn’t. Minutes ticked by as I stood on the sidelines watching, panicking. What if you left the event before I got up the courage to speak to you? I slowly inched away from my hiding place, watching you and your entourage for a break in the conversation. Suddenly you turned around and saw me standing there with the gift I made for you.

I could barely get the words out to tell you how and why I made that gift. The whole time, the thought was in the back of my mind, What if he hates me at first sight for my looks or my accent? What if he loses patience with my awkwardness? I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable rejection to which I’d become accustomed, but it never came. When I thought I’d find derision, you gave me encouragement. The person in the room with the most cause to look down upon me was the person who treated me with the most compassion.

I walked away from that interaction thinking, Did that really just happen? In the real world, people like me aren’t supposed to win over people like you. That’s only in fairy tales! I didn’t know how it happened, but I knew I didn’t want to give up that feeling of belonging! That night, I faced a choice. I could go back to the idle way of life I knew and let your acceptance be a one time thing, or I could honor that acceptance by becoming someone worthy of it.

Just once, I wanted to measure up to someone’s expectations, so I decided to make one last-ditch effort to improve myself. That night, I made a promise that I would turn my life around and not let your belief in me be in vain. While I still have a long way to go, I’ve made slow but sure progress. In the past two years, I’ve lost 100 lbs, laid the groundwork to start an online business, and stepped outside my comfort zone many more times. One such time let me fulfill a lifelong dream of visiting New York at Christmas, and another is going to take me on my first ever cruise next year. Everything I am now is because of your encouragement, and I can never thank you enough!

When asked to write a poem about a time I left my comfort zone, I giggle a little and bat an eye for it was the time I left my home

The moment I set foot on earth was the day I left the known; and to my sheer confusion, humans call this home

You see, we live to die, we fight to fly, we remind ourselves to breathe; but human form is not our norm, we exist for pleasantries. We exist to feel a gapping spectrum laced with woes and fright, but at the other timeless end, our love can shine its light

We agreed to become physical, and surrender our comfort zone; we agreed to teach our souls through the chaos that is unknown

So I giggle a little when you ask how I’ve seemed to leave; the only form of living is fighting to be free

I walked the lines and felt the sting of endless blissful travel, through arduous roads and stepping stones that always seem to unravel. But being human humbly means living for discomfort; like little tiny paper cuts or longing for your mother

And I praise the days I cry because feeling means I’m alive. I get to be a person who feels the dance of life

So I giggle a little when you ask the time I left my comfort zone. You leave your comfort everyday for the sake of evolving your soul.

No deodorant or shower for a week? Ok not too bad thanks for letting me know. I’ll bring wipes.

Unscented wipes? Oh. Okay. Bugs and all, got it.

Ok so do I bring the toilet paper with me – and how many feet away from camp? Ok. Cool. Wait, I do WHAT with the little orange shovel? Ah got it. Gotta do what you gotta do. And this little red bag is called a bio bag? Ok thanks.

We’ll cook in the woods that’s great. I love cooking and I love the woods! Oh we save the leftovers for the next day? Including the cheese slices? I see

Hey, sorry I know we just woke up but my bag is no longer tied up in the tree and my toiletries are all punctured — oh, oh okay a bear pulled it down. Hmm okay wow. So the bear was how many feet from our tent? Okay, cool, no that’s cool, I wish I saw it.

I have to brush my teeth with my toothpaste and a little water from my water bottle and – sorry show me again – I spray the toothpaste instead of spitting it? oh to not attract animals yeah that makes a lot of sense

I leaned into discomfort in the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and chilly nights and no makeup or deodorant

But when I leaned I learned I was standing with an incredible group of new friends

There was enough rain to feel like we took several showers a day
My hair was the healthiest it’s ever been
And turns out, you make friends quickly when you have to find somewhere to use the forest bathroom
I learned how to make my best stir fry and that pepper jack can go a long way without refrigeration
I saw a beautiful black bear enjoying the scenery just like us. Turns out they like sour patch watermelon too
I learned how to protect myself from lightening
We kept walking and walking until dusk was coming and we wondered where we would sleep, and that’s when we saw the water falls and set up our first camp
Good things come to those who walk and wonder
Our fingers were crossed for sunshine but we had to cross a large stream swollen from the rain
I leaned into discomfort and into the hands of our leaders and strangers who became friends as they picked me up to keep me from falling in the river when my foot slipped on a rock
Sometimes leaning into discomfort means falling into something beautiful
A wonderful net of beauty and nature and friendship
Sometimes it’s the intricate silk strings of discomfort that becomes a web, delicate and strong all at once

In the center of a classroom, where quietness emerges,
Upon a platform of education, a narrative is being shared.
A quiver in my voice, a tremor in my spirit,
A journey away from familiarity, towards a distant objective.

A cloud of nervousness, a cloak of unease,
A stumble in my speech, oh, so evident.
A sentence felt like a demise, words difficult to guide,
Reflecting upon myself through their eyes.

Shadows of judgment, perhaps real, perhaps not,
An inner turmoil, a daunting idea.
My words, they stumble, they hesitate, they fought,
Yet in this struggle, a noble lesson is learned.

Each syllable a challenge, each pause a difficult situation,
In the depths of uncertainty, I search for guidance.
A multitude of faces, a dizzying height,
Nevertheless, I stand firm, prepared to confront.

The sound of laughter, the whisper of sighs,
An unspoken poem of quiet despair.
Yet amidst the chaos, a mythical bird resides,
From the remains of fear, bravery will arise.

I stumble, I stutter, yet I proceed,
In the face of adversity, a victory indeed.
For it’s not in perfection that heroes are bred,
But in the tireless spirit that refuses to concede.

The words may not flow, as smooth as the breeze,
But every stutter is a step, every pause is a tease.
In the heart of the struggle, I find my ease,
For in the echo of my voice, I’m learning to seize.

So here I am, beneath the scrutinizing sun,
My journey of self-discovery has just begun.
A stuttering start, a war not yet won,
Yet, in every spoken word, I find myself spun.

A daunting task, a fearsome trial,
Yet every struggle is worthwhile.
For in the silence of my speech, there lies a smile,
A testament of courage, crossing the mile.

So though my voice may waver, and words may fray,
I rise from my ashes, in the light of day.
For it’s not the eloquence, but what I say,
That truly matters at the end of the day.

I sat there.
I never would have came to this place if it wasn’t for a saving grace.
I sat there.
I watched the glares form an unruly silence around the room.
Unfamiliar territory looms, the expectations are loud too.
I sat there.
I felt doom come take the empty seat next to me at the bar. I figured they too wanted a drink.
Scotch.
Neat.
I twirled the lone hanging string of my dress hoping they wouldn’t call on me.
Fragile.
Placing my name down on paper. Second to last place is where I signed the waiver.
I should eat.
A lite snack should calm the waves of my mind sea.
You see, I was told to focus on one centered area of the room, something only I can see.
Bustling busy sentences are heard from those around me.
The crowd responds wildly.
Snaps,claps and the occasional “ooh wee” .
Not like the free and cheerful sounds of children on merry-go-rounds, swings, the glide of the slide you know monkey bar things.
My name is almost up next.
My hands are complex. Tucked in.Resting in it’s own apartment. My feet tapping to the saxophonist beat. My mind, wandering circles around me.
Did I eat?
Where’s my purse?
Oh… Right here duh! Laying across me. It’s a cute little thing. A light blue bag, bare from any words, logos, or brand.
Hmm… Kinda like me.
“And up next we have Ms. Gie”
Gosh I’m not ready.
I counted the names. How’d they get to me so quickly?
A daze.
I look around,the claps and unknown smiles invade my privacy.
I’m uneasy.
Do I start off by saying “I get nervous doing these types of things?”
Out of my comfort zone. Well outta my league.
I’m up to bat.
Stand tall. Plaster a smile at least.
YOU wanted this.
Remember?
This is your YES year.
Push yourself graciously.
Conquer some fears.
Fear number 1. Public speaking.
What am I thinking?
I can’t do this.
These people are expecting greatness. Words that fly off the lips cold like a Winter’s kiss. Not a ball of nervousness.
Nervousness.
She’s here, plucking fabric from the hem of her dress.
Stressed.
Why did I even sign the list?
My hands ball into a fist.
I rehearsed at home for weeks and now this?
It’s not them it’s me. I just wanted to do something differently.
Find my voice.
I breathe.
Inhale positivity.
I speak.

This is for anyone struggling with stage fright, public speaking, or general anxiety. You are not alone. Being in a shell, secluded from the world was my comfort zone. I felt I could control my world better. I was slightly wrong. One of the first steps are to breathe. Reaffirm yourself as many times as you need and rearrange the steps that help you step, speak and live abundantly.

Thinking back on a time where I felt fully comfortable in my own skin is difficult to say. What is comfort? How much change must one go through to become comfortable? Where does the zone of comfortability begin? How long does it last? Like the sting of a bee or the spark of a firefly, they come and go. The only thing constant in nature, is change; and there is no morality in nature. What once was alive, eventually dies. Now, I don’t consider myself to be a pessimist by any means, but hear me out. Living in a home with handicapped siblings, recovering from cancer, while vowing to your father that one day you will be the sole care taker of his children once his time on Earth expires, is anything but your typical “follow your dreams” shpiel or leave your “comfort zone” speech in which I am about to share with you. This was a special case. Little behold, I can recall three occurences where I plowed through change in hopes of becoming comfortable with a better resolution for my well-being and what seemed to be at the time, a dim-lit future; only to find myself right back where I started. Except once.

It was October 2022, I was an Assistant Residential Manager in upstate New York, aiding and caring for disabled adults in a residential home. There were 5 residential homes I monitored, with a total of 25 residents. Each home had its unique group of individuals. All having completely different disabilities and health related issues. The company was low on staff with a high turnover rate, the job is anything but a job to me. Afterall, this was all I’ve ever known. For most people it was a job and certainly, not an easy one. The more people left or didn’t show up for their shift, the longer I stayed. On my days off, I worked as a Direct Support Professional for my disabled siblings and did construction work on a house. My father bought a beat down home on a nice piece of land with a backyard that overlooked a golf course with a small pond. He decided he was going to bring down the house and start from scratch. I had been working on this newly renovated home project for 3 months, while balancing my work life at the residential homes, work life with my siblings, and balancing a personal life of my own. One evening mid-Fall after coming home from work, my father proposed an idea to me, which seemed impossible to refuse. He said, “Would you like to live in this house for the rest of your life with no bills? You can go to work full time, continue working hours with your siblings, and one day when the time comes, you can take care of them. Out of all the other kids, they love you most, you know that.” He wasn’t wrong, I had spent 21 years of my life changing diapers, bathing them, feeding them, and spending time with them, while the rest of my siblings went off to college, built romantic relationships and created a life of their own. “Absolutely!” I said to my father, there was no question or doubt about it that a future home I didn’t have to purchase, with no bills to pay, while continuing a full time job would be the American Dream. The following week, I was finishing the interior painting of the living room and kitchen in my soon-to-be home, and decided to take a break. I walked to the master bedroom and glanced out the window, watching the cars drive by until there was nothing but silence. I closed my eyes, and breathed in deeply with my head against the wall. By the time I opened my eyes, it hit me. The harsh reality of missing out on a life of my own. A life where I can choose to do anything I want and become what I want, without the guilt, shame, or resentment of leaving, hit me dead in the face. The harsh reality that I was not and have not been living a life of my own, I was living someone else’s.

It was Thanksgiving 2022, I was spending the holiday at my personal favorite residential home out of the 5. I prepared chicken parmesagn with spaghetti and meatballs, put the Andy Griffin Show on in the living room after supper and placed everyone to bed. Once my shift was over, I arrived home at about 10:30pm for my family’s leftovers in the fridge and hung out with my siblings in the computer room where they watched tv and ate their snacks before going to bed. I felt the walls were caving in around me and nothing was the same anymore. My mind and heart both battled against each other, until there was nothing left for me to do besides “bleed on paper,” a term my creative writing teacher in high school used to say when certain feelings are too hard to face or express by mouth, put it on paper. Well, I did. Then, I sent it out to 10 childhood heroes asking for their help. This was my first true, nervous and mental breakdown. But man, did writing all of those emotions and personal memories down on paper make me feel good and so relieved after. The next morning, I woke up and continued the same routine at work, followed by coming home and hanging out with my siblings in the computer room. Once I got to the computer room, my oldest sibling approached me and said, “Stupid! Stupid!” I responded to him with confusion and fear, “What are you talking about?” Seconds after, my father walked into the computer room and asked to speak with me in the kitchen. My heart stopped and as strange as it sounds, I could feel my face turn white. I remembered thinking to myself, “God, there is just no way he knows about the letter. It’s impossible!” Well, it would have been impossible if my father wasn’t such a control freak with the abilities to hack into my email account. There it was, the 8 page letter printed, laying flat on the kitchen table next to his root beer float and Medjugorje prayer cards. He looked at me and said, “Everything you wrote is a lie! I don’t want you in this house anymore. If you want to go, go!”

I spent 3 1/2 weeks at my friend’s house while contemplating different ways and scenarios to make peace with my father, while also forgiving him for invading my privacy. The two appeared to be impossible, my name was already tossed in the mud throughout the entire family. My letter was nothing but a joke, my feelings were received as anything but valid, and any words that left my lips was a lie and bitter attempt to seek attention. The car he had given me, was politely returned, and I was forbidden to step foot on his property or receive any more than “two trips worth with the pick-up truck” for the rest of my belongings. The rest, he donated to the Salvation Army, or so he says. By mid-day on December 25th, I had already been 14 beers deep trapped in the spare bedroom of my friend’s house, in and out of sleep and tears. The morning after, I decided to make a decision that would change my life forever. I called my mom and asked to live with her for a while to start over, start new. Without hesitation, she drove from Florida to New York, picked me up in a rental van with all of my things and brought me someplace safe, her home. I was 4 years old the last time I lived with my mother, a lot happened. None of it being her fault in my opinion, but that’s another story. Fast forward ten months later, I’ve landed a position in the hospitality industry, becoming Operations Manager next week, still no contact with my father or siblings. After countless nights of tears on the pillow case, wondering if what I shared with the world was a good thing or a bad thing, and if I was the villain in my family’s eyes, I finally learned to let go. A comfort zone isn’t always comfortable, but habitual. Sometimes, leaving your comfort zone isn’t something one plans or sets out to do, it is simply pushed or eagerly encouraged by the Universe and everything around you. The chapter of a life without guilt, shame or resentment for leaving, was here. All that once appeared to be a dim-lit future and a nightmare away, is now a distant memory. If I had not left or taken the risk of losing my vehicle, future “home,” and family members from a single letter, I would have ended back where I always started. Living someone else’s life.

Lifeless entity; A dead identity
The shadow of dream blurringly seen
A boy lost in the jungle book of trauma and pain
Where was my baloo?
You have no idea the weight sadness carries
Until you’re not welcomed
In your own body
I know pain and trauma
like a blind man knows darkness
The festival of tears my pillow witnessed at night
was a different kind of baptism
What was my sin?
That my penalty should be a neurological disorder
Or should I say a curse we couldn’t find the cause
A curse that just didn’t scare me from flapping my wings
But made me believe my cage
Was a safe sanctuary i should never leave
All alone
every seizure was a different kind of nail
I had to endure on this Golgotha
So I put aside my umbrella of shame
and faced the rain of pain like a gladiator
after the gale of misfortune life had spurned my way
Pen to a paper
the only way I cured this cancer
For whilst science gave up on me
Art gave me another life
by dipping it’s paint brush in my redness
Now see the beauty my pain writhes out of me
all because I fell in love with it
They said he is a nobody
But wait !
Doesn’t “Nobody” know tomorrow
Now watch how I go from being a nonentity
to a psychic
Yes me; I am what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Yes me ;The one who survived the hunger of love and attention
Yes me ;The one who beat death
to it’s favorite game
and outran it with this sprinter’s legs of self belief
Yes me; The stem of don’t give up too easy’s root
Yes me ; The faith that changed your fate

To: YOU
From: Stef

Dear Sons,
I got stuck so many times in my life
I had dreams of reaching the stars
and I had fears of monsters and ghosts under my bed

I was stuck in the love for a mother
who used to throw her pain on my face every day
I was stuck on a shape of myself other people decided

One day she lost her mind and I lost a mother
so I gave up on my dreams to take care of the family
One day they said and I settled
in that house full of ghosts

I got stuck in a life I didn’t choose
a job, a school, a house, that’s what you need
I felt that was the right thing to do
settle in a zone of painful comfort

As time goes by, that zone started to smell
a pond of guano is warm but excrement
I couldn’t breath trapped in a heavy armour
and nightmares spoke the truth to me

I packed some clothes and my music
I flew to the other side of the world
to break that armour, to smell salty air
I left securities that actually weren’t and risk it all

Sons, what you should know is that the comfort zone is only in your mind
Cause you know what happened?
My mother saved herself by herself
Real new friends knows me more than the old ones
I don’t have a house but I’m sure I’ll always have a cozy bed to sleep on
Surfing is my therapy even though the family told me I wasn’t meant for sports
and Music is still my lover I love spend time with
and you know what? I finally found someone like me.

Dear Sons,
you are meant for everything you love. But you gotta step out of the comfort zone trap.

Dear The Unsealed,

First, a big thank you for giving me the opportunity to participate in your writing contest! It is my understanding that you are having a writing contest with the prompt “Write A Letter About A Time You Left Your Comfort Zone.” Here is my letter to you about a time I left my comfort zone and took a leap of faith, quite literally. It was my 21st birthday. I was no longer in that awkward phase of “I’m not a teenager anymore but I’m still not an adult” aka adolescence. To celebrate my coming of age, I wanted to do something special. Although turning up on your 21st birthday is practically an American tradition, I was hoping to do something more rewarding. So I decided to go skydiving. It was an impulsive decision, but it was still one of the best decisions I ever made. I booked my appointment and then immediately started driving to the skydiving location. I made it on time, but they still made me wait a few hours. The suspense grew as each minute went by. When it was finally time, me and the other skydivers took off in a small plane that was completely filled up. On our way up into the sky, I was feeling very anxious, nervous, and scared. Despite all those dreadful feelings, I was also excited. After a few minutes, one of the instructors fell out of the plane. The others explained that this was normal, but I was still on edge. When we got 7,000 feet in the air, the instructor said we were halfway there. “This is only halfway?!”, I exclaimed. I took some deep breaths to try and relax. My instructor, the man I was attached to for the tandem jump, made the experience slightly better with his nonchalant attitude and light-hearted jokes. I loosened up a little. I spent a majority of the ride gazing out my window at the breathtaking view. When we got to 14,000 feet, I watched everyone jump before me. I was the last one to jump. I almost backed out right before the jump, but then I told myself, “I already made it this far, I can keep going.” Next thing I knew, I was in freefall. I was both terrified and thrilled. My excitement overpowered my fear. Joy completely washed over me. Once they pulled the parachute string and we began to glide rather than fall, I began to feel bliss. I looked down on my hometown in astonishment. I was flabbergasted! Sure, I was also a little bit scared and uncomfortable, but I was having the time of my life! When we were getting closer to landing, I could see my family waiting for me. I yelled to them but wasn’t sure if they could hear me. Then, I just started yelling for the sake of my happiness, regardless of who could hear me. When I landed, I walked over to my family with the biggest smile on my face. I gave them hugs and we chatted. I told them about how happy I felt. “I think I cured my depression”, I joked. When they asked if I wanted to get a drink I told them, “I’m already intoxicated from skydiving.” I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt ecstatic. I carried that feeling with me for the rest of the day. It was like a long-lasting adrenaline rush. Skydiving was a life-changing experience for me. I feel so empowered now because I tell myself, “If I can do that, then I can do anything.” I had conquered my greatest fear. It was the greatest feeling ever. I wanted to do it again right away. I’m definitely going back the first chance I get. Next time, I won’t be as scared. Skydiving broke down a barricade of fear and created a sense of confidence in me that I didn’t have before. I am incredibly thankful that I got to have that experience. It was truly an unforgettable 21st birthday. In my personal opinion, everyone should experience skydiving at least once in their life. The best moments in life happen outside of your comfort zone. If I could offer you one piece of advice, it would be to do something that makes you uncomfortable each and every day. Eventually, you won’t be uncomfortable anymore. Thank you again, The Unsealed, for letting me share my story. I can’t wait to read everyone else’s.

Much love,
Shaylaray Bilandzija