By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
As my family pulled into the campground at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina I felt nervous. Not exactly the feeling you expect at the start of your vacation. My sisters and parents were excitedly chatting about all our plans for the next week. It was going to be my sisters and I’s first time ever seeing the ocean. Our first time breathing in the salty air and feeling the sting in our eyes as the waves crashed over our heads. I wanted to be thrilled, to feel as exhilarated as my family did, but I was petrified. For as long as I can remember I have had a horrible phobia of sharks. Considering I grew up in a small town in landlocked Indiana, the phobia was completely unfounded, yet somehow it stuck with me. So now, with our impending trip to the beach mere hours away I was frozen with terror. It wasn’t long before we were settled into our cabin and ready to head to the beach. The excitement in the air was palpable. I remember the sheer joy on my mother’s face as she opened the car doors and my sisters leapt out and ran down the beach and the confusion as she saw me still cowering my seat. After a lot of cajoling from her and my father, I reluctantly made my way to the water. The sheer size bewildered me. It was like nothing I had seen before. The lilting crash of the waves blending with the distant cries of seagulls immediately enraptured me. I suddenly understood why people liked the beach. Filled with an unexpected boldness I rushed headlong into the waves only immediately to run screaming back out. I was convinced the bubbles from a recently crashed wave rising to the surface of the water was a shark. Statistics from shark week about the prevalence of shallow water attacks rang in my ears as I hugged my knees to my chest on the beach. I wiped stinging tears from my eyes and caught the stare of my mother. She looked heartbroken. Memories of overheard conversations between my parents late at night flooded my mind. Hushed whispers about budgets and savings and bills spoken in anxious tones. I knew they’d worked so hard to give us this experience and I would not be the reason it was soured. I stood up, dusted the sand from my bottom and cautiously tiptoed into the water. I spent the next hour running back to the shore every time I wave rolled in, but I always made my way back in. Soon I felt my fear slipping away. Peels of laughter rolled out of my mouth as a wide grin stretched across my face. I let the waves carry me away and finally felt some peace. That was the first time in my young life that I stood up to my fear and it felt liberating. My phobia wasn’t cured, but that didn’t stop my from living in that moment. That trip sparked in me a passion for trying new things and seeing new places. I am awestruck by every new view of nature’s beauty I am lucky enough to experience. Truly it is a privilege to witness the vast wonders this earth has to offer. And all it takes is facing your fear.