You know what! A long time ago, when I had 18 years old, lots of dreams and few things to worry about, I went to a ski trip in Lapland. It was the second time that I was trying to ski (the first one wasn’t a success at all) and after one hour trying and without falling I was having so much fun that I thought that I was ready to go to the top of the hill. It was not a difficult one, just a blue one, but it was enough difficult for a young Brazilian girl who had just learned how to make a pizza slice with hers feet. That day, after 5 hours playing with my skis, I felt down and broke my leg.
Last weekend I went to a ski trip. It was not to Lapland, but to Devil’s head, Wisconsin. So twelve years later there I was, a 31 years old woman, mother of a 6 months old child, full of worries and still with lots of dreams. Therefore, I had to find enough courage to try to ski again.
However, I didn’t use much courage to ski. To be honest I was frightened and I spent the whole time on the easiest part of the hill.
That day, all courage that I had it was used to leave my baby girl in a day care while I was skiing. So this time I didn’t break my leg, but I almost break my heart.
