This is how you jump out of that comfort zone (literally)

The bachelorette party. I've had my fair share. An uber-relaxed makeup workshop where I discovered what a concealer does to your gaze (as if you actually slept well last night). But also the beach-rolling variant, which was partly organized by me. On Saturday, I got to participate again for some joy and merriment with wedding scenes on the horizon. And it turned out to be not only nerve-wracking for the bride but also for me.

I told you this morning that you need to go to Zoelen, right? So there stands by far the most gruesome course in our country, with names like ‘high ropes’, ‘the drunkard's game’, and ‘freefall’. Well, with those high ropes, things went a bit wrong. My feet got stuck in the grass clumps, and you couldn't get me up that tree with a hundred baboons. I was already feeling nauseous at the sight of the beams, the too-small baskets, and the spinning planks ten meters high that you had to balance on. Oh yes, you were secured. But guys, there was nothing funny about this. Am I really going to pretend that I enjoy this? The bride-to-be had just come out of the cast, and since you had to go up in pairs, I paired myself with her and awkwardly pressed my mustache. And pressing my mustache awkwardly makes me rebellious and angry at myself. That's why I forced myself (hello, it's me here) to do that 16-meter freefall an hour later. Now you might think: it must be due to peer pressure. But I'm not easily impressed by peer pressure; I am by this mademoiselle here who thinks it's a bit too scary.

“Jumping off high things is for people who are tired of life.”

An obstacle course and getting your face in the mud, as Kiek so beautifully puts it, I have no problem with that. It gives me quite a do-or-die mentality. That's why I was also flailing in a pond topped with green layer and filled with frogs within ten seconds. Soaked to my armpits, scratch on my left hand, nails in a terrible state, that kind of thing. But even though I don't have a fear of heights, I prefer not to dangle on a fabricated line with just a hook and a construction worker's helmet (which is also orange, not my color) on my head.
I stepped off a platform sixteen meters into the nothingness below me. And for all the adrenaline junkies who are now thinking: ‘that's not high’, I really think that's high. And for everyone who has no clue how high that is, an average row house is five meters, and the Great Wall of China is sixteen meters. Try jumping off that voluntarily. When you're standing below, the distance suddenly seems smaller. I find that very dubious, as if your head is doing a mini-mindfuck. But anyways, you're not psychologically built to step into nothingness. I would have preferred to run down that iron staircase as fast as possible. You had to secure yourself to a railing on the way to the top, which already says enough in this-you-don't-want-to-land. At the top, the instructor was patiently waiting for me. ‘Mr. Instructor, I think I find this terrifying,’ I said to him. And how calm that guy was, ridiculous. I clung to the side hyperventilating with sweaty hands. He checked in the meantime if I was strapped in quite ungracefully. Buckles under the butt, making the backside look at least five times bigger. And believe me, mine is usually not small. Just think of that orange helmet. Do you have the image? And then he said: ‘Just hold on here, look forward (so especially not down) and on three, you step off.’ And I did. I just did it.
The only thing I thought was that I shouldn't think, because if I think, I start to overanalyze. And if I start to overanalyze, then I don't do things. When in doubt, don't do it, that kind of story. So I dove into the sixteen meters, I thought my heart was left on the structure, and a second later I landed softly on, yes, that strapped backside. And then it started, the adrenaline flowed through Adeline's veins (yes, I'll just make that up myself). I got a kick, I wanted to do it again, the world was mine, a gigantic primal feeling took over me. I always thought jumping off high things was something kooky for people who are tired of life, well, then I must be kooky. It's good for you to color outside your safe lines every now and then. Not a little, but just excessively and ridiculously. I did that, and I believe a little more in myself again. So when in doubt about whether to jump into the deep end: do it. Then you'll find out that you can and dare more than you think.

Image credits: Seth Doyle, Llyn, Jordan FmcQueen