My First Skydiving Experience. Dangerous??

They say life begins at the edge of your comfort zone. I’m pretty sure mine began at the edge of an airplane door, 14,000 feet above solid ground, questioning every life choice that brought me to this moment.

It started innocently enough—a friend casually mentioned going skydiving, and in a burst of temporary insanity (or bravery, depending on who’s asking), I said, “Sure, why not?” The next thing I knew, I was strapped into a jumpsuit that looked like something a 70s sci-fi movie rejected, signing waivers that essentially said, “If things go south, it’s your fault.”

Facing the Fear
The night before the jump, I barely slept. My brain oscillated between “This will be epic!” and “What if I become a human pancake?” By the time morning rolled around, I had watched so many YouTube skydiving videos that I felt like a seasoned (albeit couch-bound) expert.

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Arriving at the drop zone, I noticed something peculiar: everyone else seemed way too calm. Instructors joked around as if hurling themselves out of planes was as routine as making coffee. Meanwhile, my nerves were staging a full-scale rebellion.

The Big Moment
Fast forward to the moment of truth. My tandem instructor, Chad—a guy who exuded both confidence and “I’ve done this a thousand times” vibes—gave me a pep talk.

“Just remember to breathe and keep your eyes open. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

Sure, Chad. Easy for you to say when your job description includes “Professional Gravity Tester.” But I nodded like I had this whole “falling from the sky” thing under control.

Before I knew it, we were at the door, wind howling, my heart racing faster than a caffeinated squirrel’s. “Ready?” Chad yelled.

“No, but let’s do it anyway!” I shouted back, embracing the madness.

The Freefall
Then—whoosh—we were out. Falling. Flying. Fumbling through the air like a skydiving potato. It was chaotic, exhilarating, and absolutely surreal.

The initial seconds felt like being caught in a giant wind tunnel. My cheeks flapped like a dog sticking its head out of a car window, and I’m pretty sure I made faces that would haunt me if captured on video. But then, a shift happened. The fear melted away, replaced by pure awe.

The world stretched out below—patches of green fields, winding rivers, and distant mountains. It was beautiful. For a few blissful moments, everything was peaceful, weightless, and strangely calming.

The Parachute Ride
Chad pulled the chute, and just like that, the chaos turned into serenity. We floated gently, and I had the chance to soak it all in—the beauty of Earth from a perspective few get to see.

“Not so bad, right?” Chad asked.

“I can feel my soul returning to my body,” I replied, half-joking, half-serious.

We chatted as we descended, my heart rate finally easing back to something resembling normal.

Back on Solid Ground
Landing was surprisingly graceful (read: I didn’t faceplant), and as my feet touched the ground, I felt like a superhero who just conquered gravity.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. Skydiving turned out to be less about “falling” and more about letting go—of fear, doubt, and the need to always have control. Plus, it makes for one heck of a conversation starter.

So, if you’re teetering on the edge of your comfort zone, take the leap—literally. You might just find freedom waiting for you at 14,000 feet.

Before going to your first write must read this: Is skydiving safe?

Until the next adventure,
Syed Zarif