I sat dangling what felt like a mile in the air, waiting to be rescued.

My life was paralyzed by a fear of heights, preventing me from enjoying countless experiences. I opted out of family ski trips to stay safely on the ground. I looked up at the sky instead of down at the view on the peaks of mountains and the tops of waterfalls. I held on to the edge of escalators with a grip so tight my knuckles turned white and my hand felt sore when I released. I couldn't even jump off a chair if I stood on it. Without my feet firmly planted at sea level, my heart pounded, my palms sweat, and my vision blurred.

When my trip leaders in Costa Rica said we would be zip lining, I didn't want to do it. I looked for any and every way to get out of the excursion, even considering faking an illness to do so. I wanted to stay in the safety of my hotel room with my feet on the ground and my head only five feet in the air, but I couldn't do that. Not only could none of the leaders stay with me, but I also knew that I would always look back and regret not going. The chances of me regretting going were slim to none.

My leaders had me go last so I would see everyone else in my group make it safely across and assure myself that I, too, would join my friends on the other side. The waiting only fueled my anxiety over what I knew I was about to do: take a running start, lift my feet up at the edge of a cliff, and let my body fly through the air until it (hopefully) reached the landing platform.

One by one my friends took their leap of faith until it was finally time for me to get strapped in and join them on the other side. My mind went blank as I took that running start I had been dreading, lifted my legs that suddenly felt like they were made of stone, and started floating. I could hardly breathe as my eyes remained glued on the landing platform, not daring to look down or around me.

Things started moving more slowly. The platform was no longer approaching quickly. The wind was no longer cool against my cheeks. The scenery in my periphery vision was no longer as blurred. Suddenly, I stopped. I wasn't moving at all. I was stuck with nothing but air beneath me. A guide on the other side waved his arms wildly at me, shouting something to me in Spanish that I could only hope meant he was coming to save me from my nightmare that was becoming a reality.

So there I sat, strapped in but dangling what felt like a mile from the ground, waiting for the guide to climb across the metal zip line and rescue me, when I decided to look around. I was in a rainforest full of trees so tall I could see neither their bottoms nor their tops. A howler monkey rested in a tree a few feet away, staring back at me in wonder. A waterfall flowed way beneath my feet, the noise of the water rushing calming me and steadying my breathing. The sky was the exact shade of blue used in animated movies to show how picturesque the day is, devoid of clouds and all other imperfections. It was beautiful, and I had wanted more than anything to look at the beige walls of my hotel room instead of it.

The guide reached me in just a few minutes. As he dragged me to the landing platform, I continued to soak in the magic of the moment. I started questioning how many views I had missed out on by refusing to look, how many memories I had failed to create by choosing not to participate, and how much time I had lost to my fears.

My feet were placed safely back on the ground on the other side, and I was alive. My heart hadn't popped out of my chest. I hadn't plummeted to the ground. I had survived what seemed like my worst nightmare. If I could handle that, couldn't I handle anything?

New, scary situations arise every day, but this experience proved to me that fears cannot stop me. It inspired me to take more difficult classes that were not an "easy A" because I was interested in the topic and wanted to challenge myself. I joined new clubs that my friends weren't a part of to expand my horizons and try something new. I chose a college in a new state where I knew no one, leaving everyone and everything I knew behind in order to restart and evolve. I stood on that precarious looking roof to get a better view of the mountains around me, and I actually looked down to see the river below me. Fear won't stop me from partaking in the full college experience; job opportunities in new places won't escape my reach; and maybe I'll even find myself rappelling down a building or bungee jumping one day. I know I can do it. I know I can do anything, even if it scares me. I just need to relax, take a deep breath, and enjoy the view.