One More Step To You

New Beginnings

"I have to be out of my mind," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else, from inside the warm confines of my sister's car. My head was resting against the front dashboard, and my sister Julie was rubbing my back soothingly, as I had done for her a countless number of times while she had been sick. There was no other explanation for it. Sometime in the last few months, I had lost my frigging mind and started making insane decisions.

"You're not, Em. Come on, you've been working on this for months, and you're finally here! You're actually doing this, and it's amazing. I couldn't even imagine doing what you're about to do for a week, and you're going to be out there, in that forest, for months." Julie's voice was reassuring, but I groaned all the same.

"Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because that's what I'm thinking too, that I am going to be out there, in the woods, covered in dirt, with bug bites and scratches and scrapes and people I don't know, and that actually sounds terrifying. What was I honestly thinking?" I sat up and met her gaze, my eyes wide, dread tightening my features.

"You loved hiking, remember? You hiked all the time in high school, and you never cared about any of that before." She put her hands on my shoulders, which was awkward in the car, and looked me in the face.

"You're here because you don't know who you are anymore, baby sister. I got sick, and you became what you had to become. Too mature, too tired, too focused on everyone else, and I love you for everything you did for me and the girls. I will never be able to repay that, but it's time for you to focus on you. You're here to figure out who you are after taking care of all of us, and who you want to be."

I nodded at her, her words making sense, but the self-doubt that had taken its grip on me this last year was hard to shake off. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let it out. Push down the panic, focus on the here and now. "Doing this for myself, giving myself time away from everything to reset and refocus."

"That's it. You're back to sounding like those self-help books you were reading. Thankfully, you picked up that book on the Appalachian Trail because it was getting a little scary there for a while." She grinned at me, her hands giving me a firm squeeze before she righted herself in her seat, unbuckled, and hopped out of the car.

"C'mon Em, you've got to check in now, otherwise they're going to go up that mountain without you, and that money you spent was for nothing. Tomorrow, you're going to be hating yourself for not going."

She was right. I knew she was right. That didn't stop me from wanting to cry, but I knew that was just the anxiety. I took another steadying breath and opened the door, stepping out of the car as well. I smiled at her over the hood, and I wasn't sure if it was for her benefit or for mine. "Panic attack over, promise."

"Let's get you geared then, Em." Julie raised her hand and clicked her key fob, the trunk of the car swinging up. I walked toward it, meeting her at the back of the car, and stared into the trunk at what would, literally, be my home for the next six months. My new backpack, ultralight, made specially for long hikes, packed full. I picked it up and hoisted it onto my shoulders, familiar with the weight of it now. I had spent the last two months taking it everywhere with me, building up my strength to carry it.

"Turn around," Julie ordered, and I did so, giving her my back. I could feel her pulling and twisting my zippers and clips back into place. I felt her check the poles tied to my bag before she tugged my shoulders to turn me around, and I shifted my body to face her again. "There, all better."

She was beaming at me, and I knew she thought this was going to be good for me. She had been skeptical at first, telling me there was no way I could go away into the mountains for six months and survive. I had told her I was going regardless, and like a big sister, she had thrown herself into learning more about thru-hiking. A week later, she had called me back, saying she was on board. She thought this would actually be a great idea for me, but that I had to go with a guided group. She needed to know I was going to be okay.