We Just Needed a Reason to Jump

June seems like it was a long time ago.

Life has been busy, summer is moving fast, and somehow we are already well into July. While lacrosse is still in full swing, so is swim season.

Growing up, I dreamed about being an adult and spending summers with my kids at the pool.

Admittedly, I don't get there as much as I would like, but I'm grateful for the days I do.

This week was dreadfully hot, so I made a point to close my laptop early and get to the pool as much as possible.

We also spent some time with friends at their pool. They have a high dive, which was an added bonus.

Or an added challenge, depending on which of my children you ask.

I have three kids, and their levels of risk aversion are approximately:

C: High

O: Low

E: Somewhere in the middle

So it surprised no one when Oliver jumped off the high dive without a moment of hesitation. Even Camden jumped without much delay.

Eloise was a different story.

She was nervous.

She said no the first few times we

asked.

Then Camden's friend J offered her $5.

Apparently, courage has a price, and for Eloise that day, it was exactly $5.

Off the high dive she went.

Afterward, she was so proud of herself.

I couldn't help but smile because I could actually see her carrying that pride with her as she walked around the pool.

She stood a little taller.

Moved a little differently.

All because of a few seconds when she was brave enough to say yes and take the leap.

A couple of days later, we were back at our pool.

Eloise was learning how to dive because she wanted to go off the diving board for the first time.

She asked me to show her how to dive.

So I did.

She was impressed and asked if I could do a flip.

Absolutely not.

But I made the mistake of telling her I used to be able to do a back dive.

Of course, she wanted to see it.

I walked to the end of the diving board thinking I would be fine.

Then I stood there.

My heart started racing.

Suddenly, I had no confidence that I remembered what to do.

So I bailed.

I told her I wanted to try it from the side of the pool first.

I stood with my toes at the edge of the pool and listened as my brain started making its case.

"You remember how to do this."

"What if you don't?"

"You could make a complete fool of yourself."

"You used to do this all the time."

"That was a long time ago. A lifetime and three kids ago!"

While Eloise cheered me on, Oliver offered his own version of mental performance coaching.

"The worst thing that will happen is you'll over-rotate or under-rotate and hit the water. It'll only hurt for a moment."

Thanks, buddy.

But he was right.

Whatever pain I was afraid of, whether it was my body or my ego, would only last for a moment.

So I threw my hands back and went for it.

I can't say it was anything special, or even good. But it was, in fact, a back dive.

So off to the diving board I went.

Again, I stood with my toes at the edge.

Nervous as hell.

But I wanted to be brave, so I took a deep breath to settle myself.

Then Eloise said:

"If you do it, Mom, I'll have the courage to do a dive."

That's all it took. Off I went.

And every time I went back to the ladder after that, I still needed a deep breath to settle, but it was easier.

The fear didn't take over, and I could actually focus on doing it a little better than before.

In the span of about five minutes, I went from a racing heart, arguing self-talk, and serious doubt about my athletic abilities to feeling calm and confident.

The fear didn't disappear before I jumped.

The jump changed the fear.

A few days earlier, I had watched Eloise experience the same thing.

She was nervous and she jumped anyway.

Maybe this is one of the things we get wrong about confidence.

When we're standing at the edge of something physically scary, we don't expect to feel confident.

We know we might be nervous. We know our heart might race. We know we may need a friend to count to three, someone cheering from below, or apparently, $5.

We don't wait for the fear to disappear or to confidence to just show up.

But when the risk is psychological, we seem to expect something different.

Before we take the shot, try out for the team, take on a new role, before we put ourselves in a position where we might fail or be judged.

Suddenly, we think we should feel confident first.

And if we don't, we question if we're ready, if we're good enough.

But confidence isn't the only thing that can get us off the edge.

Sometimes it's courage or preparation.

Sometimes it's a teammate believing in you or a reason that is bigger than that moment.

Like a seven-year-old looking up to you, or maybe it's $5.

Eloise and I were both afraid.

Neither of us waited to feel confident.

We just found a reason to jump.

And the confidence came after.