2025 was the year I properly grew.
Not in a dramatic, overnight way. In small, cumulative moments where fear showed up first and I chose to move anyway.
The First Time I Was Too Scared to Park
I remember turning up for a sea dip and being too scared to even park the car.
I needed full instructions on how to get to Helen's Bay, reassurance about where to stop, and a plan for my friend to meet me at the car. The fear was physical. Shaking hands. Tight chest. A nervous system in full alert.
Looking back now, it almost feels surreal. But at the time, it was very real.
Knowing the Rules, Not the Feeling
I’d dipped a few times in 2024, so I knew the basics. Get your shoulders under as quickly as you can to help regulate. Stay in until you feel cold again, because there’s that strange warm phase in between. Never go out of your depth.
What I didn’t know yet was how it would actually feel. Or why people kept coming back.
The Most Overprepared Person on the Beach
The list of gear I brought was unhinged.
Gloves. Hat. Shoes. Swimsuit. Towel. Hot water bottle. Travel mug of tea. A fluffy dressing gown. A long coat. No dry robe. No tow float. No hooded towel. No real system.
I didn’t have the tips and tricks I do now. I was operating purely on caution and instinct.
Fear loves over-preparation.
The Moment It Clicked
I remember being in the water, teeth chattering, and my friend saying, “Girls, I missed this. I needed it.”
And I genuinely thought, really? Because I didn’t.
Not yet.
But then we got out. I was dry, safe, and warm. The sun hit my face. My body settled. And suddenly I understood what she meant.
The calm arrived quietly. Alongside it came giggles. Relief. The craic.
What Changed Over Time
The fear didn’t disappear all at once. But the second time was easier than the first. And the third easier again.
Not because the sea changed, but because I did.
Each time I did something scared, I carried that experience forward. Proof that the shaking passes. Proof that calm can exist on the other side of fear.
Why This Matters
Doing things scared doesn’t mean you stop being afraid. It means you build skill in moving with fear instead of waiting for it to leave.
That skill has spilled into everything else. Adventures. Work. Creativity. Showing up.
2025 taught me that growth isn’t loud. It’s repetitive. It’s quiet decisions made again and again.
Closing Thoughts
The first time I couldn’t even park the car.
Now, the sea feels familiar.
Fear didn’t go away. I just got better at carrying it.
