What Crossing a Suspension Bridge Taught Me About Growth
A fear of heights, a swaying bridge, and a moment of panic. What I learned midair about navigating discomfort and building the courage to move forward — in life, leadership, and business.
Heights.
I’m not a fan of heights. For years, even the second rung of a step ladder would make my knees knock. But I’ve been working to push myself outside of my comfort zone.
On a recent visit to Vancouver, I got an unexpected opportunity to do just that. A suspension bridge offered a new vantage point to take in the beauty of the area. I wasn’t nervous at the ticket window, or even as I approached the entrance.
But once I stepped onto the bridge, everything changed. The moment excitement turned into panic was actually captured in a live photo my husband snapped of me just a few steps into the 450-foot crossing.
Halfway through, as the bridge swayed under the feet of two-way pedestrian traffic 230 feet above the Capilano River, I went into full Lamaze breathing mode. I locked my gaze on the tree line across the canyon and held on tight, inching forward one deliberate step at a time.
What made me most uncomfortable were the variables I couldn’t control.
The people taking selfies meant I had to wait until they moved to continue on my way. The sudden shifts in weight. The strangers passing by in the opposite direction. Each added a new layer of uncertainty. And every time the bridge shifted under my feet, I had to recalibrate, rebalance, and re-center.
I made it across the bridge with measured breathing, a tight grip, and shaky steps. But I did it. And I knew I was only halfway done. I’d need to take the same journey back after we explored the sights of this side of the canyon.
What struck me was this: the bridge, the height, the sway, the people — none of that changed the second time around. But I did. I had proof I could do it, even if I was still uncomfortable.
That’s the thing about growth: it rarely feels easy in the moment. But once you’ve done something hard, something that rattled you but didn’t break you — you carry that proof with you.
We don’t always get to control the bridge, the crowd, or the swaying weight of what’s around us. But we can control our breath, our focus, and the next step we take.
And sometimes, that’s more than enough to move forward.
As I move forward into coaching executives, I’m helping my clients make meaningful strides toward becoming the kind of leader, parent, creator, and human they’ve always wanted to be.
Book a free clarity call if you want to explore what that next step could look like for you.
Image: Still frames from the live photo capturing my change in mood.