The Audacity of “Never”

If you know me, then you know I am absolutely terrified of heights. I’m the kind of person who double-checks balcony railings, white-knuckles airplane armrests, and politely declines any invitation that involves my feet leaving solid ground. Skydiving? Absolutely not. Bungee jumping? Hard pass. Even standing too close to a glass floor? Nope.

So, imagine my own shock when I found myself voluntarily suiting up for indoor skydiving earlier this week. The one activity I had sworn—sworn—I would never attempt, right next to letting a snake drape itself around my neck (which, by the way, is still a firm no). And yet, there I was, standing at the entrance of a wind tunnel, heart racing, questioning every life choice that had led me to this moment.

This isn’t really about conquering fears, though. It’s about the audacity of saying never.

We love to think we know ourselves inside out—our likes, our dislikes, what we would or wouldn’t do. But the truth is, we change more than we realize. Our fears, our interests, our aspirations—everything evolves. And sometimes, without even noticing, we cross the invisible line between I would never and I actually kind of want to.

But how do we know it’s time? How do we recognize the moment when something shifts inside us? Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe we just stumble into it. Maybe we wake up one day and think, What if I just tried? Or maybe, like me, we find ourselves in a jumpsuit, floating mid-air, wondering why we ever thought we wouldn’t love this.

Because, let me tell you—floating in that wind tunnel? It was exhilarating. The moment my body lifted off the ground, I expected sheer panic. Instead, I felt weightless, free. The fear I had built up for years crumbled in seconds, replaced by something I never expected: pure joy. And as soon as I landed, I wanted to do it all over again.

I’ve heard it a million times, rolled my eyes every single time: Change is inevitable. My therapist has said it, friends have said it, the entire self-help industry runs on it. But experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The real question isn’t if we will change—it’s when we’ll recognise it, and whether we’ll let ourselves step into the new version of who we are becoming.

And the best part? No one can figure it out for you. That’s the beauty of it. Some changes announce themselves loudly, while others sneak up quietly. Either way, we’ll all get there in our own time, in our own way.

So, will I ever let a snake rest on my shoulders? Still no. But ask me again in a few years—I’ve learned never to say never.