When I was growing up, before I learned the differences between guys and girls, I remember the feeling of running through the grass in my backyard. I can recall sprinting through the sprinkler, my toes wiggling, free and shoe-less, until complete exhaustion. The end of the day always came too soon. My mom would have me sit on the side of the bathtub and clean my feet before coming to dinner. I still remember the feeling of running around with a huge grin on my face while I chased my sisters and our friends through the woods at the back of our property; finding frogs in a creek that wound its way through the trees and dipping our toes into the cool running water.
I didn’t know it then, but my parents had planted the seeds. They took us camping, hiking, biking and fishing. They put us in front of lakes and rivers and mountains and let us explore. I will be forever grateful.
Conflicting Emotions.
At some point in your life as a female, you start to feel different. You start to notice changes and pressures with your classmates. You hear comments about your body, go through huge physical transitions, and realize that what your teachers say to Tommy might not be the same as what they say to you. These things permeate. Whether we admit that, or know it, they become part of our identity.
We get put into a female box, and therefore, what we can be or should be seems limited.
I found myself in this box for far longer than I’d like to admit. In fact, I felt like the walls of the box were endless, and that I’d never get out. I felt this way for a very, very long time. I ventured into other hobbies, mostly partying and trying to figure out how my hormones work, and why I was so emotional all the time. I played sports, but didn’t put in the effort to get any good at any of them. I still went camping with my family but pouted the whole time, doing the whole moody adolescent thing. I was a pro at eye-rolling and being annoyed at my entire family for no real good reason.
But then, somewhere in the midst of all of my emotions swirling around me and feeling like I was drowning, a friend asked me on a hike in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York.
Changing course.
I hiked with my family growing up, but never really on my own. I hated it. Why were my lungs, legs, feet, shoulders, and butt all burning at once? Is this a cruel joke? But when we came up on the top of the mountain, and the trees cleared, I looked over my shoulder and burst into tears. It was like some huge weight came tumbling down out of my chest to open up into this beautiful, green and blue and expansive view of the High Peaks. It was then that I decided this was what I needed in my life. I needed to feel this sense of smallness and strength at the same time, and I needed the mountains.
That hike left me with a new mandate: find nature and be in it. And since then, I’ve found myself running, signing up for races, trying new activities (climbing) and trying to get stronger. I keep coming back to the mountains and the trees and the rocks because they heal me. But even more than that, they are the place that I feel the most feminine, and the least scrutinized. I can get dirty and sweaty and work hard, and nature doesn’t care. It’s a place for me to feel all that female strength and goodness, but never fear judgment. I look out on awe-inspiring landscapes and cannot believe that I am fortunate enough to see what I’m seeing, feel what I’m feeling. It’s truly empowering and makes me come alive.
A final message for all women in the outdoors.
Nature is important for all people. But it’s especially important that women get outdoors, learn about themselves and the woods, because we have too many places that we feel like we can’t take up space, that people tell us how to feel, think, act. Ladies, go outside. Get dirty. And never look back.
Emily is a co-host on The Stokecast podcast where she and Jonathan Ronzio chat with the outdoor industry’s top athletes, adventurers, entrepreneurs, and activists about how to balance work, life, and adventure while having fun and making a difference.