As a child, I was encouraged to explore new experiences. In my twenties, I was advised to find my path and hone my skills. Now, in my forties, I’m once again hearing the call to embrace new challenges. Throughout all these phases, I never anticipated that facing my own failures would ultimately provide me with the most profound insights.
Growing up on the West Coast, I began vacationing in a resort town near Mount Bachelor when I was around eleven years old. Skiing was the highlight of our winter trips. Despite my athleticism, I never quite mastered the sport. After taking lessons, my first solo attempt on the slopes ended in a catastrophe; I was so frightened that they had to reverse the lift because I couldn’t bring myself to disembark. Standing at the summit, overwhelmed by the vast white landscape below, I froze in panic. In that moment, I resolved to despise skiing.
Fast forward two decades, and I found myself a new mother in the Adirondacks with my partner, Jake. “How about a skiing trip this weekend?” he suggested enthusiastically. “I don’t want to be away from our baby for too long,” I replied, and I repeated that sentiment for the next three years as we welcomed two more daughters. When our girls reached the ages of 4, 6, and 8, Jake proposed again: “Let’s teach the girls to ski.”
I flinched at the thought, recalling the frustration and despair I had experienced on that mountain long ago. I was reluctant to jeopardize the confidence I had built as a mother by returning to a place that once made me feel inadequate. But I also craved an active lifestyle, and winters in the Adirondacks can be quite uneventful if you don’t embrace the snow.
“Alright,” I conceded. “We can give it a shot, but I’m not sure how well the girls will do. There are three of them and only two of us.” What I really meant was that I was uncertain about my own abilities.
Jake’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped an arm around me. “We’ll make it work.”
We set off to gather snow gear: mittens, hats, snow pants, and jackets for the girls. Through a combination of purchases, rentals, and hand-me-downs, we managed to keep the expenses manageable. We practiced dressing and learned the hard way about the importance of using the restroom before bundling up. Despite our preparations, my anxiety grew. But once we had our lift tickets, I knew it was time to face my fears.
We began on the bunny hill, and after a few runs, Jake took the older girls up the lift, leaving the youngest and me behind. I stood behind her on the magic carpet, allowing her to lean into me as we ascended slowly. To my surprise, she embraced it with enthusiasm. Her small body leaned and turned as she maneuvered the snow like a natural. Before I knew it, we were heading to the mountain every Saturday morning.
The sight of my daughters clad in vibrant snow gear became as integral to our family life as their dolls and toys. One Friday, Jake asked, “Want to go to work late and spend some hours on the mountain?” Initially taken aback—skiing was a family activity—I agreed.
We drove to the mountain, and without three little ones to dress, the experience felt different. I missed them but smiled at how scandalized they would be to learn that mom and dad skipped work to ski. As we rode the lift, our legs brushing and Jake’s hand on my knee, I felt a wave of nostalgia and joy. I glanced at the sun breaking through the clouds, illuminating the snowy treetops, and realized how close I had come to missing out.
Revisiting skiing became beneficial not just for my children. It strengthened our family bond and allowed Jake to share an important passion with me. Nearly four years after starting this journey, each skiing trip reinforces a valuable lesson: opting for what feels easy or familiar isn’t always the best choice. Embracing skiing again has instilled in me a renewed confidence to rise above past failures. While I wouldn’t change my feelings from when I was twelve, I can now tell my kids—and myself—that time transforms us, and we can often have second chances if we’re willing to take them.
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Summary:
In this article, Sarah Thompson reflects on her journey of facing failure through the lens of motherhood and marriage. After a traumatic childhood experience with skiing, she hesitated to embrace the sport again as a parent. However, the desire to engage in family activities led her to confront her fears. Through perseverance, she rediscovered skiing, which not only strengthened her family bonds but also helped her regain confidence. Ultimately, Thompson emphasizes that time can bring about change, allowing for opportunities to reinvent oneself.
Keyphrase: Overcoming failure in parenting
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