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Backpacking for the first time at 19, I collapsed in a snowbank, soaked and exhausted, curled into a ball, and closed my eyes: I just need a little nap.
Drifting asleep, I pictured my ex-boyfriend smirking. He’d told my friend: “She’ll never make it.”
Asshole.
I forced myself awake, struggled to my feet, heaved on my pack, and kept going.
The next morning, I watched a glorious sunrise from a mountaintop and gave thanks for the snarky comment that probably kept me from freezing to death. There’s nothing like being told, “You can’t,” to make someone say, “Really? Watch me.”
