The Climb
   Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, out. This pattern seems to be the only thought occupying my mind as I advance up the steep, rocky trail. The temperature is a scorching 114 degrees, and the sun leaves its warm mark on my skin as a reminder. Walking in this Arizona summer heat, I feel frequent drops of sweat beam down my bright pink cheeks. I stop in the middle of the path and lift my arm to shield my face from the sun. As this makeshift shade allows my vision to clear, the view straight up in front of me displays the challenge I face. I see a wall well over 52,800 feet high containing beautiful rock formations and earthy color patterns. I breathe in deeply, inhaling some of the dust from the dry environment around me. I am at the foot of the Grand Canyon, and I have a whole day of climbing ahead of me.
   My dad planned this excursion for months. It has always been his dream to hike the Grand Canyon and my heart feels warm knowing he gets to fulfill his dream with his kids cheering him on. Already well ahead of us, eager to begin the trek, he calls back to my brother and me.
   “Are you guys ready for this?” Luke and I exchange a glance and a smile, giddy at how happy this is making our father. We move forward with strong dedication, ready to begin the challenge.
   Hiking a trail such as this one is intense and frightening. Every step I take on this monumental path is risky, as the rocks could give at any moment, causing me to slip. This hike humbles me as I huff and puff, developing the illusion that my months of training did not do me any good. Some parts of the trail are so steep, I feel like I am rock climbing rather than hiking. I climb until my legs ache, so much that they feel numb, as if they are going to fall off. However, this numbness is short-lived because of a sudden sharp jab in my right knee. I try to move past the pain, but my leg weakens every step becomes more difficult than the last.
   “Just take it one step at a time, it’s not that bad,” I think over and over. I think, “maybe if I repeat this statement enough times in my brain, the rest of my body will begin to believe it.”
   I stop and stare at the large upward stretch of trail. It stares back, daunting me as I fill with nerves.
   “Will I be able to do this? Will I fail? Will I disappoint my dad?” An avalanche of negative thoughts races through my mind.
   Even though I am talking myself down, or rather up, I try not to let intimidation get the best of me. I advance, and all it takes is one step up, shifting my weight onto my right leg, for my heart to drop as the pain escapes my body in the form of a cry.
Hearing my yelp, my dad rushes to my aid. He catches me as my body crumbles in defeat.
   “This is the worst timing possible for knee pain,” I say as I take in the amount of climbing we still have ahead of us. “I am so sorry, I am slowing you both down.”
My brother and dad look at me with concern. My dad’s concerned look transitions into a soft, comforting smile as he softly says, “It is going be okay, G. No matter how slow we have to take this climb we are going to get through it, together.”
                                                         
   This climb to the top of the Grand Canyon was full of challenges that I had to overcome, just as making the decision to go to therapy for my eating disorder was. In both situations, my dad lovingly encouraged me to persevere, no matter how slow my steps were at first. The support and love he showed me when I hurt my knee hiking up the Grand Canyon mirrors the attitude of my entire family during my time in therapy. In both situations, having them cheering me on and reminding me it was okay to make small progress made all the difference in my success.
   The decision to start the climb that is therapy intimidated me. I knew there were many hardships ahead of me before I could get to the top and feel better. Deciding to book my first consultation appointment was like taking those first steps towards the foot of the canyon walls. Fear of the unknown path ahead consumed me at the beginning of both situations. Now, I am thankful for that feeling of fear because having overcome both challenging experiences, I appreciate the growth it demanded along the way. These memories remind me of the saying, you cannot appreciate the good times without the bad times. This means hardships teach you to appreciate joyful times.
   Having problems with eating is all consuming. Days become filled with negative thoughts of what you are putting in your body, your appearance, and a looming sense of never being good enough. It is extremely difficult to go through life this way. When going through any kind of mental struggle, it is common to feel alone and scared. Finding a strong support system that will push you to climb the mountain, even if you only take baby steps at first, can make all the difference.
   Some may believe that starting the climb and pursuing therapy is scary and not worth the money. This is understandable because every human copes with personal issues differently and is in different financial standings. However, taking a chance on therapy can truly benefit those struggling in many ways. Therapy is an outlet that allows people to talk to a licensed professional who will respect all opinions while providing a safe environment to heal. Often, people do not realize how freeing talking to someone about their feelings is. It is difficult to be certain something will not work for you until you have tried it and drawn that conclusion yourself.
   At the beginning of my climb, I was unsure if therapy was the best decision for me. I did not want to take the steps and feared the steep mountain ahead of me. After giving it a chance and finding a therapist that I felt comfortable with, I made impressive strides that I never thought would be possible.