Three years ago, right when I thought my boyfriend and I would get engaged, we broke up instead. I had one month of absolute, crushing grief. Then I remembered the list. Back in 2008, I'd started making a list of everything I wanted to do before I settled down: ride through Bangkok on the back of a motorcycle, scuba dive the Great Blue Hole, trek through the Amazon, swim with sharks. My boyfriend hadn't been able to find the time, but now that he was out of the picture, there was no stopping me.

I first saw wing walking on a travel show; I had gone skydiving before, but this looked infinitely cooler. I wore a rock-climbing harness, which was attached to the plane with a steel cable. In the air, the wind resistance was so fierce that it took all my strength just to climb out of my seat, and every inch of my skin was flapping. When the pilot started doing flips, it felt like zero gravity, an out-of-body experience. But I wasn't scared. I just kept thinking, I'm getting to do what I want. Now nothing seems very intimidating anymore. As for my ex, there are no hard feelings—our breakup put me right where I needed to be.


Next Story