(image source: www.islandoutpost.com)
When I was 20, I went to Jamaica on spring break and went cliff diving. I remember standing on the edge and I couldn’t quite see where I was going to land. I moved even further out, to the point of almost losing my balance forward, and I thought, ‘Am I really going to do this? Am I someone that jumps off cliffs?’ As the rest of the group started counting down ‘3, 2, 1,’ I smiled to myself…because I am someone who jumps off cliffs.
And I jumped.
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My mom thinks I’m brave because I’m not afraid to say what I think or I’m the first one up the ladder to swing from a trapeze. Here’s the catch: it’s all relative. Risk does not have to involve jumping out of a plane; it could be throwing out an idea at a meeting, committing to education that could change your career or making a life for yourself in a new place.
Dedication
My mom used to erase my homework and make me do it again if it was sloppy. I remember one time I didn’t erase it well, and when I redid it, my mom made me erase it properly and do it a third time. I am certain that I didn’t get her point. She took her risks to push towards her best self and subsequently, she always wanted me to push myself, too. Eventually, I understood why she was tough on me; I started agreeing with her, trying harder and expecting more from myself.