My Dominican Adventure

When I was 21, I went cliff diving in Jamaica. I also went jet skiing around the island with some local guy I had just met. When I was 26, I went hiking alone in the Andes with a local guide, who, it seems so obvious now, was probably just some college kid who needed the cash—not a professional tour guide.

I was never much of a risk-taker, but mix in alcohol and peer pressure, and I definitely made some adventurous (read: dumb and dangerous) decisions when I was younger.

But that was then. Grown-ass me doesn’t do anything that’s not carefully researched, planned, and thought out.

I am not adventurous. AT ALL. If I don’t feel like I’m in control, I’m not doing it. When I don’t feel safe, my body simply shuts down. Years of therapy taught me this is my PTSD response to early sexual trauma and I’m still working through it.

Most of the time, I give in to it. It sucks, but it’s the truth. But not last week.

Last week, I stepped WAY OUT of my comfort zone. Multiple times. In the Dominican Republic, nonetheless.

While most of my time was spent soaking up the sun and exploring the culture, I did join my husband and mostly-grown sons on a few excursions where I had to overcome my fears and …

Climb narrow, rickety steps to zipline from way up high above the trees down into the water.
Ride a fast dune buggy through the rocky, muddy forest terrain.
Conquer two very tall, windy, and dark water slides.
Swim with stingrays and nurse sharks (SHARKS!).
Kayak, snorkel, and SUP (stand-up paddleboard) IN THE OCEAN!

It wasn’t always pretty. I struggled and definitely dropped a few f-bombs along the way, but I did it. All of it. Thanks to the love and support (read: peer-pressure and bullying) of my husband and sons.

I’d love to share photos from all my wild adventures to prove I did all of this, but with the exception of the cover image I used at the top of this post, I got nothing. That’s what happens when you’re the one who takes all the photos, so you’ll just have to take my word for it, I guess.

While I’m proud of my accomplishments, I don’t want to mislead you. This wasn’t an adventure vacation. The bulk of my days were spent doing what I enjoy most: Sipping frozen piña coladas (sin alcohol, of course) on the beach and lounging by the pool—quietly and safely, just the way I like it.