Learning to Love Something that Scares Me
There’s something humbling about starting at zero.
Your feet don’t know where to go, your hands forget how to trust, and your mind would honestly rather be good at something else. Anything else.
For me, that thing has been mountain biking.
Not leisurely bike rides down a sunny sidewalk. Not an easy trail where you can coast and chat. I’m talking about the single track, roots everywhere, rocks-in-your-path, “did I just sign up for this?” kind of biking that my husband and boys live for.
And for a long time I sat out, or I hiked along behind them when my boys were still little and slow enough for me to keep up on foot. I was the snack-packer, the trailhead dropper-offer, the “I’ll meet you guys after” mom. It felt easier. Safer. A little more me.
Until one day, it didn’t.
The Shift
It wasn’t dramatic. Just a quiet nudge that maybe—maybe—I wanted to stop watching them live their adventure and start living in it with them. Even if I was slower. Even if I was scared. Even if I looked a little ridiculous doing it.
So I said yes.
And then I wobbled. I cursed under my breath (a lot). I clipped a tree. I questioned my core strength, my gear shifting, and my life choices—all in the first ten minutes.
But I also watched my kids look back to check on me. I watched my husband slow his pace so I could keep up. I heard my name yelled with encouragement. And somewhere between the panic and the pedaling, I remembered something I’d almost forgotten. I remembered what it feels like to be new at something.
Why It Matters
As adults, we don’t often let ourselves be beginners. We pick what we’re good at and stay close to it. We avoid looking clumsy. We trade curiosity for competence.
But when you let yourself be new, awkward, and uncomfortable, you unlock a version of yourself that’s been waiting. A version that’s willing to try. To join in. To risk joy.
And for me, it’s not really about mountain biking. It’s about being in the story with my people. It’s about showing my kids that learning doesn’t stop just because you’re the mom. That bravery doesn’t always look like speed or skill, sometimes it looks like strapping on a helmet and saying okay, let’s go.
Here’s What I’m Learning
- It’s okay to be the slowest. You’re still going.
- You don’t have to love something to learn from it.
- Kids are the best cheerleaders when you let them lead.
- A quiet trail and two wheels can teach you more than a podcast ever could.
- You’re allowed to surprise yourself.
So Here’s to the Beginners
To the ones picking up a hobby that doesn’t come naturally.
To the moms who just want to be part of the ride.
To the women trying something new—not to be great at it, but to live inside it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever love mountain biking. But I do love where it takes me.
And for now, that’s enough.
I’m Emily, a Casper Wyoming hair stylist and balayage color specialist, and I take a holistic approach to hair extensions. Whether this is your first time investing in extensions or you’re being called back; I’d love to guide you through blending story and style into every strand.
Please Book an Extension Consultation to answer any questions you may have, chat through the process, and schedule your appointment.
