That one time I jumped off a boat

I’m not a huge risk taker. Partially because I don’t want to die from something like hitting my head when I jump from a waterfall; but also because I just don’t care that much about jumping off of waterfalls. Which is probably why I don’t want to die that way—don’t we all want to go out with a bang, doing something we love? So if I die while talking or reading a memoir, I’m okay with that.

I feel this pressure though, to seize the moment, and participate in these “once in a lifetime” opportunities. I live in Mexico City. I’m surrounded by so much history, art, nature, and culture that I should be soaking in everyday. However, I’ve been to three places so far in these first 9 months, two of which ended with one of our kids yakking in the backseat of the car. Not cool. For this reason, and my low level of excitement for things like “ruins”, otherwise known as a pile of rocks, we’ve stayed pretty close to home.

Also, this one time I complied and did the Once-in-a-lifetime activity, which was jumping off the side of a boat in some crystal clear ocean in Brazil, where I could literally see 2-foot starfish just hanging out at the bottom, most likely waiting to attack me. I agreed to it for three reasons: It was our anniversary and Alan really wanted to make a memory or something; I thought I’d finally have some story to share when everyone else talked about swimming with sharks and climbing volcanoes. It seemed of the same caliber; and it was a Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Little did I know, I would get two stories out of the experience. Yay...

First, I had to put my bathing suit on in the tiniest boat bathroom I’ve been in. In related news, it is the only boat bathroom I’ve been in. Back then, I wore a two piece. I have no idea why—I always felt super uncomfortable in it, but I was 20-something so I guess I thought I was supposed to. Mistake number one. Then, Alan and I announced to some people on our team (we were on a Mission Trip) what we were about to do, so they got the cameras ready and stood by to watch this romantic Anniversary Plunge. Mistake number two. We held hands, counted down, and JUMPED! Mistake number three.

 I realize the water looks dark in this picture.
It's only dark compared to our pasty white bodies.

I should’ve stuck with my first 7 answers of “No thank you. I really don’t want to jump.” But I got sucked in by this once-in-a-lifetime stuff and did it anyway. God gives women, specifically, a sixth sense. We can feel when things are a little off. I ignored this warning. Mistake number four. As we went down under the water, so did my bathing suit bottoms. Like, to my knees. I’m not sure if you’re following me or not--the water was *crystal clear*. Oh, and people were watching. Remember that? I whip around, yank my bottoms up and sheepishly announce what just happened. I figured it’s better for me to acknowledge what had happened rather than pretend the starfish didn't just see my bid'ness—it makes it less embarrassing, right?

As I was facing the boat, announcing this embarrassing, but not-too-embarrassing moment, I looked down to make sure my bottoms were secure. In that moment, I learned that not only did my bottoms fall down, but so. did. my. top. My top was not doing it’s job. It has one job and it was not doing it. The entire time, which was probably 6 seconds but felt like 6 minutes, that I was explaining about the mishap with my bottoms, I was flashing my fellow teammates in *crystal clear water*. Everything is a blur after this. I remember seeing my teammates walk away, not saying anything. I'm pretty sure a laugh would’ve been better than a silent walk off.

This pretty much solidified that I don’t care about once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. The following year, when we went to Costa Rica, I refused to cave in when everyone told me that zip-lining through a rainforest was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I could only imagine which article of clothing would rearrange itself, exposing something I’d rather not, hundreds of feet in the air. No.Thank.You. Instead, I painted my nails in a giant tree-house. That was a once in a lifetime experience--I had never done it before and I’ve never done it since.

I’m not really a risk-taker. Not because I am afraid. Okay, not entirely because I am afraid, but mainly because I value privacy for the things my mama gave me.

-M