I Want to Step Into the Snow

For most of my life, I felt like I needed permission.

Permission to go somewhere.

Permission to buy something.

Permission to take up space.

Permission to do things that made me happy.

Even when nobody was stopping me, guilt often was.

I worried about being an inconvenience. I worried about asking for too much. I worried about disappointing someone. Somewhere along the way, I learned that what everyone else wanted mattered more than what I wanted.

My wishes always seemed to come last.

I don’t know exactly when that started to change, but I remember the moment I realized how far I had come.

My boyfriend and I were driving to Lake Tahoe for the day.

As we climbed higher into the mountains, I started seeing snow along the side of the road. The farther we drove, the deeper it got. Every time I saw another patch of snow, I said the same thing.

“I just want to touch it.”

He laughed.

Not in a mean way. In the playful way people do when they don’t quite understand why something matters so much.

“You are crazy,” he said.

I laughed too.

But the feeling wouldn’t go away.

The farther we drove, the stronger the urge became.

Finally, I looked at him and said, “No, seriously. I REALLY want to step into the snow.”

This time he realized I wasn’t joking.

A few minutes later, he found a safe place to pull over.

I jumped out of the car.

There wasn’t much snow. Maybe two or three inches along the side of the road.

But I didn’t care.

I stepped into it.

I looked down at my footprints.

I picked up a handful of snow.

I laughed.

And for a few minutes, I was ridiculously happy.

It was such a small thing.

Most people probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

But standing there on the side of that mountain, I realized it wasn’t really about the snow.

It was about finally listening to myself.

For most of my life, everyone else got a vote.

What they wanted.

What they needed.

What they thought.

That day, I gave myself a vote too.

I know it sounds silly.

We’re talking about stepping into a couple inches of snow.

But for me, it represented something bigger.

It was one of the first times I stopped dismissing something just because it seemed unimportant to everyone else.

I wanted to step into the snow.

So I did.

Now when I think about that day, I don’t remember how cold it was.

I remember how it felt.

I remember feeling free.

I remember feeling heard.

And for once, I was the one doing the listening.

Healing doesn’t always happen in the big moments.

Sometimes it happens in small decisions.

Sometimes it happens when you stop talking yourself out of what you want.

Sometimes it happens when you finally realize that what you want matters too.

Sometimes it happens when you step into the snow.

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Journey on strong.