My Fear of Losing Control Was Holding Me Back — Here’s How I Conquered It
When I was given the opportunity to go to Costa Rica, I said yes without question. A chance to travel to a new place and go to an all-women surf camp? Sign me up. But as the trip grew near, the reality started to set in. At the age of 26, I’d never traveled alone. And although I would be at an all-inclusive retreat, I would be navigating it by myself — and that scared the shit out of me.
For the most part, I’ve always played it safe. I’ve never even lived outside of my hometown. After graduating, I immediately started working in my chosen field. I’m not unhappy with my life, but I believe that to transcend to another level of life, you have to do things you’ve never considered. As such, I quickly realized that going on this trip would mean a lot more than simply learning to surf.
So, with the intention of letting go, I packed my bags. After a four-hour flight and a two-hour drive, I finally arrived in Nosara, Costa Rica. From the moment I stepped foot onto Olas Verdes, the hotel gave off nothing but relaxing vibes. Since it was tucked away in what the locals called “the jungle,” we were surrounded by sounds of nature. It was so calming to be in such a remote location, but I knew that soon, my mind and body would be put to the test.
After eating dinner the first night, the attendees all gathered to meet the instructors, see the schedule, and learn more about the retreat. Safari Surf School is run by an amazing team of women surfers under the direction of former olympian surfer, Andrea Diaz. Andrea assured us we’d have a great experience but that she was going to push us all to ensure that we got the most out of our trip.
The next few days were a journey, as I’d completely underestimated how difficult learning how to surf would be. I felt defeated after my very first surf session; I didn’t catch any waves and was exhausted just from fighting the current. Aside from understanding how to read waves, surfing requires a lot of strength that I’d fooled myself into thinking I had. But my confidence led me to believe that the next day would be better and that I’d be excelling in no time.
However, the next day was not better — and to be frank, the next few days weren’t, either. I was at war with the water and myself. I found myself in a constant loop of paddling, trying to stand, falling, repeat. One day, I decided to go further into the water, past the shallow part where the waves break. The water was calmer but it was also a bit deeper than what I’d become used to. I hadn’t become completely comfortable with such a large body of water, so I heavily relied on my board to keep me afloat. Soon, however, a huge wave knocked me from the stability of the board, and I panicked when I realized I was unable to touch the seafloor.
I found my way back on my board, but I was so shaken up that I went back to the shore. As I stood on the beach watching everyone surf, I felt a flood of emotions wash over me and began to cry. I was still scared from what had just happened, but I was also angry I’d let the experience keep me from finishing my session.
Right there on the beach, I began recounting my time in Costa Rica and started to question whether coming on this trip was right for me. It seemed like I was the only one swatting mosquitoes at the dinner table while everyone else enjoyed each other’s company. I was the only one who wasn’t having fun surfing. I even thought about the nickname I had acquired, “princess,” from how prissy I was acting.
In between sobs, Ines, the photographer, opened up to me. She explained that learning how to surf isn’t so much about catching the wave but simply not giving up. Somehow, she convinced me to go back in the water. Though I stayed in the shallow part, I kept trying.
Initially, I blamed what was happening in Costa Rica on my circumstances. I knew how to swim but wasn’t truly comfortable in large bodies of water. I reasoned that I had never surfed before. I even placed blame on the instructors, and wondered if I was being left behind because I was a beginner. And although some of these things were true, at the root of it all, they were mere excuses. I realized I was lacking the drive to keep going because I wasn’t seeing the progress I wanted to see.
I knew something had to change. I had two days left in Costa Rica and wasn’t going to waste them crying on the beach. Those last two days I made more progress than during the entire rest of the trip. The most rewarding part was catching my first and only wave. I rode it for approximately five seconds, but they were my happiest five seconds in Nosara.
Since returning to the states, my new surfing skills have not been put to use. However, I have applied a new way of thinking to my life. While I was in Costa Rica, the instructors frequently said, “Be water,” to teach us how to be better surfers. Andrea says that great surfers are just like water — they move with it, they adapt to it, they don’t fight it. This applies to life as well.
I think the reason I’ve always played it safe is because with familiarity comes control. However, familiarity doesn’t allow space for growth, and that’s what I was missing out on. I found that by spending every waking moment trying to control my life, I was missing out on a lot of experiences and lessons along the way. Letting go in certain ways has ironically made me feel more powerful than ever. Having the faith to be able to go wherever life takes me is a lot more important to me now.
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