After months of agonizing debate with myself, I left Corporate America and launched a marketing consulting business. 

No more subsidized health insurance, profit sharing, 401K or guaranteed income. Also, no more endless and pointless meetings, commute, office politics and 360 performance reviews. 

I have had all the feels the past 6 months. From tremendous excitement to fear and panic attacks. Then layer on top a global pandemic and economic upheaval, and emotions are stretched and snapped like rubber bands on a daily basis.

The emotional roller coaster of freelancing reminds me of my one-and-only zip lining experience in the rain forests of Costa Rica. A zip lining adventure (like freelancing) sounded like a great idea, was highly recommended and everyone seemed to be doing it. The brochure featured spectacular views that can only be seen while zipping down the side of a ‘small’ mountain. It will be fun, they said.

I have a fear of heights, by the way. I convinced myself that it couldn’t be that high off the ground. It will be perfectly safe. And I’ll have fabulous pics to post on social media!

While ascending the mountain in a tram, and seeing the forest canopy

miles below me, I start to panic. I imagine every disastrous thing that could possibly happen. Cable breaks and I fall to my death. Search & Rescue can’t find my broken body because the crocodiles have gotten to it first. Or worse, I puke all over myself and have to wear my vomit for the rest of the tour. Ewww.

I planned my exit strategy. I can feign an illness, call a taxi when we reach the top of the mountain and return to the hotel. I will be humiliated and out $100, but I’ll be safely at the pool bar with margarita in hand. 

Pride got the best of me (as usual) and I continued onward. At the top of the mountain, our guides showed us the ropes (sorry, couldn’t help myself). We are putting on our safety gear, s**t is getting real now, and my pulse is well over 200bmp. 

The tour guide asked which one of us wanted to go first. A woman stepped forward, trembling harder than I am and with a shaky voice said, “I am scared to death. Let me go first.”

The woman gets clipped onto the cable; takes a

running leap off the platform; zooms across, screaming at the top of her lungs. She reaches the next platform and makes a perfect landing. She is now laughing and with shear joy yells back to us, “It is wonderful! It is like flying! Come on!”

She had faith in the tour guides and took the leap. Despite her own fears, she showed us the way with humility and courage. Leadership, at its very best.

We all quickly followed our fearless leader across the rain forest abyss (full of snakes, crocodiles and spiders as big as your head). And she was right. The views were amazing; flying thru the air like Super Girl is beyond any amusement park ride. It was empowering. 

I was so close to missing this experience. Thankfully, my ego and a courageous (though scared) tourist led me off the platform of security.

Freelancing feels a lot like zip lining across a mile-long and -deep jungle full of hangry crocodiles. There are the obvious risks when you don’t have the safety net of a corporate payroll under you. It is also lonely, emotionally draining and an exhaustive test of your intestinal fortitude. 

Every day I fight the urge to give up and return to a corporate safety net. But a job in Corporate America is not the safest (or most satisfying) of havens, as millions of people are finding out right now.

No matter what I am doing to earn a living, what risky tours I undertake during vacation, or bad food and drink that I ingest … some day, I will die. I can possibly prolong my life by avoiding all of these risky behaviors but then where are the thrills, the views and the empowerment if you stay on the ground? How do you discover what you are truly capable of unless you take a running leap off the platform? 

Yes, you can get hurt badly. But that will happen if you remain on the ground and watch the rest of the world trample over you to get to the zip line tram.

So go do the zip line tour. Hang out with the crocs (from a distance) in a gorgeous rain forest. Follow your passion, monetize it and get your life back. Find your tribe of cheerleaders, coaches and fearless leaders that can make the journey less scary. Don’t go it alone.

I may fail, figuratively wear vomit for a while, but I’d rather be humiliated for a short time than forever live with regret for not trying.