Growing up, I’d always heard the saying, “third times a charm.” An old proverb meaning the third time something is attempted it must result in good luck. However, I learned the cold, hard way that the third time’s most definitely not the charm, at least not in my case.
Lying on a frigid slab of snow on a ski hill, blood gushing out of my nose, on the verge of passing out, I had never felt so helpless in my life. What seemed like a couple of hours felt like ages, and all I could do was think. On that unfortunate day, I discovered independence and courage, both of which I surprisingly possessed.
I had gone down that ski hill not once but twice before without as much as a stumble. In fact, I had been going skiing for years. What had gone wrong? I wondered. Did I not fully fasten my skis? Am I going to be okay? So many questions raced through my mind, but all I could focus on was the fact that I was all alone.
I was lying on a hill, possibly about to pass out from blood loss, with my family unaware, tucked in a warm lounge just 5 minutes away, and no means to call for help. All I could do was rely on some passerby to stop and help. Since it wasn’t a popular ski hill, there weren’t many people, and at that specific time, it was especially empty. I realized the insignificance of one human life in the grand scheme of things. Something so significant happening to me made no difference to the people around me.
With blood still gushing down my nose, I tried sliding down, but to no avail. Somehow, during my 10 feet whirl in the air, I had not only lost both my ski sticks but also one of my skis. With one ski on and nothing else, I couldn’t even stand up on my own. The hill was very long, and at this pace, it would take me hours to get down.
I tried getting up again, but I could feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes. I could feel myself about to give up. Suddenly, a woman caught me in her arms and helped me up. She then helped me in gathering my ski and ski sticks and helped me down. After I was brought down, I was once again all alone, waiting for the medical team to arrive. Despite all this, I did not cry, not from the physical or emotional pain, I knew the only way I would get the fastest help was if I stayed strong.
After that, everything was a blur — getting in the van, being taken to a medical facility, and receiving treatment. When I woke up, my dad was sitting beside me, looking terrified. Apparently, in that comatose state, I had told the nurse all about my injury and given her my dad’s contact. I couldn’t remember any of it. All I could remember was that I survived. I didn’t give up; I stayed strong.
Until that day, I had always been sheltered and never been away from my parents’ support and companionship. I thought that in life I’d always have a safety net, but that day I realized that the only person I could rely on was myself. I’d have to be my own safety net. I still have the physical scar from that day. Every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of that day, of my helplessness, but most importantly, my strength. I didn’t give up. Now I know that no matter how hard things get, as long as I remain strong, I’ll be fine. That day could’ve gone many ways, and I’m glad I had the courage to survive it. I might carry the scar from that day forever, but now I know that I can survive any situation, on my own.
Dear reader, if you find yourself in a similar situation, don’t worry— you’ve got this, and you will be okay. Being alone will only make you stronger and more resilient. Remember, the strength you discover within yourself during challenging times can be your greatest asset. Stay strong, stay resilient, and know that you are capable of overcoming any obstacle life throws your way.