How FOMO forced me to skydive

I never had the intense, I-have-to-do-this-or-my-life-will-never-be-complete urge to jump out of a plane. It was the one activity that was always just a tad too intense for me to put on my bucket list. Despite knowing the low-risk statistics of skydiving, it was ingrained in my mind that I would be the one person out of thousands who would die due to a parachute malfunction. With that fear consistently hanging over me, imagining free falling out of a plane became a nightmare. You know, the ones where you are falling in your dream and flail awake when you “hit” the bottom. I was convinced that would become my reality.

However, the moment I landed in Cairns, Australia, everything changed (cue dramatic music). I flew halfway across the world, left the dreary yet oddly warm winter of Michigan to study abroad in Sydney for the semester. My program took a weeklong trip to Cairns, jam-packed with activities from 7am until it was too dark to safely do anything with 100 plus obnoxious Americans.

The guy in charge of the large group of college students was the coolest man with the coolest job, Pete. His job was to offer several optional activities like a trip to Fitzroy Island and, of course, skydiving. So when all my friends signed up for skydiving, I couldn’t be left out. I just got to a new country — I couldn’t be a loner right off the bat. After all, I came to Australia to explore and try new things. Saying I went to the beach while all of my friends jumped out of a plane at 14,000 feet is just plain lame.

Photo courtesy of Skydive Australia

I was informed I was not skydiving until Saturday, so I had the whole week to mentally prepare and embark on other activities that could easily kill me, like scuba diving. I did my best to focus on the activities planned for each day and live in the moment. Finally, when the time had come to jump out of plane, I was exhausted, dehydrated, and as red as a tomato from the sun.

Nonetheless, Saturday morning my friends and I jumped out of bed ready to conquer the sky. We were greeted with about four different liabilities forms to really ingrain in our minds that we could die within the next hour. After signing away my life, ignoring the health insurance offer, and running to the bathroom, it was time to put on my harness and head out to the plane.

The professional I was entrusting my life to was named Phil. He was an energetic guy who captured everything on the Go Pro. All in all there were eight of us skydiving that day, and as we lined up to get onto the plane, I was pulled aside by Phil. He told me we would be going first.

Now, when I get nervous I become very  quiet. I’m not the type to diffuse my nerves by yelling, laughing, or screaming. I sit still, give everyone around me a half-smile, and stare into the distance overthinking every possible outcome. When Phil told me we were going first, I was at a loss for how to feel.

On one hand this was great news because I didn’t have to sit and watch everyone else get sucked out of the plane. On the other hand, if anything went wrong, I would be the first to die, and there was no aborting the plan once I was out of the plane.

After the longest flight of my life making small talk with Phil about waterfalls (which everyone on board could see except me), Phil gave me a two-minute warning. Three seconds later he proceeded to swing my legs out of the plane. Within the next ten seconds I was tumbling out of the plane. Hey Phil, what happened to the two minutes?

Anyways, free-falling was the best part of the experience. It is completely different than the rides at amusement parks that go all the way up and then suddenly drop. Free-falling out of the plane feels like floating, and words do not do it justice. My thought process during this period was something like:

OMG I jumped out of a plane. Wait. This is actually fun. Woah, just kidding I can’t breathe. Breathe, Christy. Oh crap this is on camera, smile! Can’t breathe again. C’mon Christy inhale or you’re going to need your inhaler and that is not with you right now. What is Phil pointing at? Oh, it’s the rest of the group! Why did they already pull their parachutes when we went first? Phil? PHIL PULL THE PARACHUTE. 

Phil routinely took pictures from different angles, and recorded me screaming before safely opening the parachute.  He taught me how to direct our path with the wind and thought it would be fun to spin in circles until I almost threw up my breakfast. Landing was obviously the last part of the jump, and it was super easy since Phil, again, did all the work and I just slid to the ground.

Once my feet hit the ground, I was overcome with an intense feeling of accomplishment and ecstatic happiness. Skydiving is obviously not for everyone, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. Doing a tandem dive helped calm my nerves and did not give me the chance to think about what was happening when Phil swung me out of the plane. The feeling of being invincible while looking out over all of Australia is one I will hold onto for the rest of my life.

And who knows — I still have four months here…maybe I’ll go bungee jumping next.