Why I’ll Never Stop Exploring: My Journey to Falling in Love with the Outdoors

Oct 22

Honestly, my love affair with the outdoors was a bit of a slow burn. It didn’t start with a bang or some glorious mountaintop epiphany. Nature was always around growing up, but we weren’t exactly besties. My family occasionally went skiing, but let’s just say those trips were more “How am I still alive?” than “This is the best day ever.” As the youngest and slowest in the group, skiing for me was more like surviving a downhill disaster while the rest of my family breezed by like seasoned pros. I’m pretty sure they spent half their time at the bottom of the hill waiting for me to make it down in one piece.

It didn’t help that I wasn’t exactly the fittest kid on the block. Sure, I was active—I danced almost every night and played lacrosse, softball, and field hockey—but I never felt outdoorsy. I mean, sweating through a mountain hike or climbing rocks for fun? No thanks. The closest I came to nature was playing "ice princess" in the woods behind my neighborhood when I was little, and even that was more about pretending to have magic powers than hiking.

But hey, life’s funny that way. Little did I know, there was a curious, adventure-seeking part of me just waiting for the right moment to break free. And once it did, there was no going back. That’s why, today, I’ll never stop exploring.

The First Steps Toward Exploration

So when did the shift happen? High school, of all places. I transferred to a new school where I didn’t know anyone, and like every teenager who’s desperate to fit in, I made a friend who was into hiking and photography. Naturally, I tagged along—mostly just to be social and make a connection. At first, it was just something to do, but before I knew it, I realized, “Wait a minute…I like this.”

Hiking wasn’t about being the fastest or the strongest. It was about the journey. And more importantly, it was about snacks on the trail (because, let’s be honest, snacks make everything better). The more I explored, the more I craved that sense of freedom—the feeling that I could move at my own pace and not have to keep up with anyone else. That’s when it hit me: I could totally do this. And once I started, well, there was no stopping me. I couldn’t stop exploring.

A Confusing Start After High School

After high school, though, things got murky. I didn’t have a crystal-clear vision of what I wanted to do with my life. I mean, who does at 18, right? I tried out a few different majors, hoping something would magically click. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. I eventually landed on studying recreation because, hey, it sounded fun. But the reality? I was still struggling, both academically and with what I actually wanted.

So, I did what anyone might do when they need a reset—I hit pause. I took some time off from school and moved to Vermont. I started working as a lift operator at a ski resort, which basically meant I got paid to ski every day. Not a bad gig, right? It was here that I had some real “aha” moments. There’s something about being outside on the mountain all the time, surrounded by all that beauty, that forces you to think differently. Plus, I was actually enjoying skiing now, which felt like a win after all those childhood wipeouts.

During this time, I also got involved in adaptive sports. Watching people conquer physical and mental barriers in the outdoors was beyond inspiring. It hit me: the outdoors was more than just a playground—it was a place where people could push themselves, heal, and grow. That’s when I started to believe the outdoors could be a part of my future in a meaningful way.

Moving to Colorado: A New Chapter

Once I realized that, I knew I had to push things further. I made the decision to move to Colorado, a state known for its endless outdoor opportunities. And let me tell you, it didn’t disappoint. If Vermont was my warm-up, Colorado was the main event.

Not only did I throw myself into outdoor adventures, but I also decided to go back to school. I enrolled in the Outdoor Recreation Leadership program at Colorado Mountain College in Leadville. Now, Leadville isn’t just any town—it’s the highest incorporated city in the U.S., sitting at a whopping 10,000 feet above sea level. It’s basically the outdoor enthusiast’s dream. Surrounded by Colorado’s famous Fourteeners (14,000-foot peaks), Leadville is a legendary hub for anyone looking to push the limits of what they can do outdoors.

This is where I really started to test my own limits. I was hiking for hours every week, doing 10-hour+ treks that left me both physically exhausted and completely exhilarated. I wasn’t just hiking either—I was rafting, repelling down cliffs in Utah, canyoneering, and more. And let’s be real for a second: hanging off the side of a canyon wall a couple hundred feet up really makes you rethink some life choices. But every time I pushed myself further, I realized something important: the only thing that ever holds us back is our own mind.

Fear? Doubt? All that stuff is mental. Once you figure out how to quiet that little voice in your head telling you, “You can’t do this,” you find out that you can actually do anything. Well, anything except parallel parking—I am still working on that.

The Mental Shift: Focus and Clarity in Nature

Now, for anyone who knows me, you know I can be a little, uh…spacy. Thanks to my ADHD, my mind is basically a high-speed ping-pong match of random thoughts at all times. Focusing can be a struggle. But here’s the thing: when I’m hiking, climbing, or out in nature, that all changes. The chaos in my brain quiets down, and for once, I’m just present.

The rhythm of my steps, the sound of my boots on the trail, the wind through the trees—it’s like nature has its own way of calming the storm in my head. I find clarity out there in a way I can’t find anywhere else. The outdoors became my focus switch, and it’s one of the reasons I’ll always turn to nature when I need to reset.

Coming Full Circle: Returning to Connecticut

After all the adventures and the highs of living in Colorado, life brought me back full circle. I’m back in Connecticut now, the place where I grew up. And honestly, the transition was tough at first. Going from being surrounded by towering Fourteeners and a community of explorers to, well…not that, felt disorienting. I kind of lost my love for the outdoors for a minute. Without those big mountains, I felt like something was missing.

But here’s the thing I learned: you don’t always need to climb the hardest, tallest peaks to feel fulfilled. Sometimes it’s just about getting outside, breathing in the fresh air, and reconnecting with yourself. Whether it’s a walk through the woods, a local hike, or just sitting quietly by the water, the outdoors still brings that sense of clarity and calm, no matter where you are. I’ve learned to appreciate the simple beauty of the outdoors here, and I’m forever grateful for everything Colorado and Vermont taught me.

Now, I hope to bring what I’ve learned back to my community, to show people that adventure and exploration don’t have to happen in faraway places—they can happen right in your own backyard.