I never thought I’d fly—not in the poetic sense, not even in a plane without clenching the armrest. Heights made me nervous. Adventure sports? Not my thing. But something changed the day I stood on a quiet hillside, strapped to a paraglider, staring out at the sky with my heart pounding.
The Unexpected Invitation
It all started with a friend’s casual suggestion: “Come try paragliding. Just once.”
I laughed. Then I hesitated.
And then—maybe because I needed a break from routine, or maybe because a small voice inside me whispered do something brave—I said yes.
The First Flight
The takeoff was surreal. One minute I was running, the next the ground disappeared beneath me. I was airborne, floating. Silent. The wind brushed past my face, and the world below unfolded like a painting—fields, trees, rooftops, all so small and still.
I wasn’t scared. I was calm. I smiled without realizing it.
What I Learned in the Sky
That 15-minute tandem flight did more than lift me into the air—it shifted something inside me. I realized how often fear had kept me grounded, not just physically, but in life. Paragliding showed me that fear can exist alongside joy, and that courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear—it means flying anyway.
I signed up for lessons the very next week.
The Addiction Begins
Since then, I’ve flown over cliffs and lakes, watched eagles soar beside me, and landed on beaches with sand between my toes. Every flight is different, but every one reminds me why I started: to prove to myself that I could rise above limits I once believed were permanent.