It’s a weird experience to go your whole life ignorant of a side of yourself. Only for it to pour out in one moment, and for me, that moment was on the Road to Hana.
Crying on the Road to Hana
The north side of Maui is a gorgeous cliff coastline filled with lush greenery overlooking the ocean. The Road to Hana is the highway along the coast that leads venturers to waterfalls, beaches, and scenery only accessible from its route. I was in Maui on a family trip, and my Mom read up on the road and was so excited for us all to experience it. I love seeing new things, waterfalls, beaches, and scenery, you name it. Yet, when the friendly start to the road suddenly funneled into a one-way sliver perched on the edge of the island’s towering cliffs… I completely lost it. To some, including the person I thought I was, this abyss of a travel method may be deemed exciting. My experience was nothing short of an out-of-body breakdown.
For background, I have ADHD co-hosted by anxiety. I’m honestly unsure of whether my anxiety is a chicken or the egg. Since I can’t get rid of its few guest appearances, it’s more important to me that I collect tools that help me live with it. On this particular day, I was feeling pretty anxious. I spent the night before doom-scrolling and felt completely unlike myself in the morning. I didn’t catch any waves when I went surfing, and mid-hike in the afternoon, my body was overtaken by a luteal-caused shutdown and had to sit out. Instead of tapping out for the day, I found myself in the back seat of the now seemingly massive rental SUV barreling down the sliver of the road at the heights of the island.
On the Road
I didn’t know how to calm the heck down or why I was all of a sudden not ok. All the evidence I had was a version of me sitting right nut, riddled in a helpless pool of anxiety. I suddenly felt invisible to my family who way too quickly returned to rubbernecking the views from the cliff. My adventurous identity vacated my body and left behind a senseless meat sack suffering an uncertain impasse.
Boiled down to two: anxiety is erratic and different adventures call to different adventurers. Though I’ve driven on cliff roads countless times, this experience was different for me. Every adventure teaches you something new about yourself. We are constantly growing into new versions of ourselves. Learning from the plethora that adventure can teach us as we go. It’s ok to learn that some adventures are more your style than others. In my opinion, it’s the same deal as figuring out which foods and colors you like.
Following our guts to these new self-discoveries, both thrilling and horrifying, is a gift from life. I’m only twenty-two but I can now pull from my back pocket that 1. I’m terrified of sharks yet I love surfing enough to face that fear and 2. I am petrified of windy cliff roads, and I do not love the car window views enough to buckle up and suck it up.
Back Home
A few days after being back home on mainland, still with my family because the vacation never ends when you’re staying at your parent’s house, we were at the grocery store and I was perusing the oxymoron of a healthy chip aisle. My dad came up to me with a pint of ice cream. “I took a guess, wasn’t sure if you were going to like it,” he said as he showed me the Mauna Loa dairy-free container labeled “Rocky Road to Hana“.
Rocky Road was my favorite ice cream growing up. The only doubt my dad could have had was the possibility of me bursting into tears again in front of the air-puffed plantains rather than the lack of excitement for Rocky Road. No outburst happened, and I, of course, had to try the ice cream, and of course, it was rad. Maybe my Dad did reserve a little sensitivity from what I experienced on the way to Hana; who knows. Nevertheless, humor and chocolate were probably the best catalysts to help me get over it.
If my life path is like the Road to Hana, I’m somewhat screwed. At least now, I’m another step closer to knowing what stops I want to take on the way.
