“The secret is not to run after butterflies, but to take care of the garden so they come to you.”

- Mario Quintana


Jumping out of a plane was only ever a heavy pencil on my bucket list.

Whilst I’d occasionally ruminated over how euphoric and liberating it must feel to glide above the earth like a bird on wing, my fear of falling was always that little bit more potent than my curiosity.

As with anything in life, in order to experience something new, you’ve first got to be willing to shed the identification you have with your current comfort zone.

But, when it came to overcoming one of my most primitive phobias, I was reluctant to even take the first step.

It was just too damn scary.

And yet in January of 2019, I found myself strapped to a handsome twenty-something Argentinian skydiving instructor called Keko, peering out of an open plane door at the fifteen thousand feet between us and the western coastline of Costa Rica.

It’s important to note that I hadn’t really chosen to jump out of a plane.

Rather, I’d been plopped in to circumstances that had made it nearly impossible for me not to jump.

And that, I discovered, is one of the most effective ways to help transcend the fears and limiting beliefs that block us from achieving something our soul longs to experience, but our mind absolutely does not.

Joe, my partner of three and a half years at this point, had always been an adrenalin junkie of epic proportions – just like my dear old dad.

There were very few extreme sports that he hadn’t - or at least wouldn’t - try.

When we were invited to travel around Costa Rica with his Costa Rican work colleague Camille, her husband Dan and a few other delightful waifs and strays, I knew I was going to be challenged beyond my limits.

Never mind all the beautiful but potentially deadly wildlife the country boasts, it was the people I was with that were the biggest threat to the preservation of my current comfort zone.

They were all so bloody brave, you see.

Nothing seemed to phase them.

For this crew, jumping out of a plane was akin to riding a relatively tame rollercoaster: thrilling, but no big deal.

The skydiving centre was owned by Camille’s family friends – two brothers that were the literal definition of ‘daredevil’, and the kind of humans that make flirting with death look like a leisurely stroll in the park on a Tuesday afternoon. To say I was intimidated by the monumental gap between my psyche and theirs would be the understatement of the century.

The resistance I felt in the days leading up to the jump was torturous. So bad, in fact, that the day before I contracted a horrific bout of cystitis, no doubt a psychosomatic response to my anxiety that I was secretly hoping would get me out of it.

But the group were having none of my excuses. They got me the meds I needed, and as the symptoms began to dissipate it became very evident that come hell or high water, I was going to be jumping out of a plane within a matter of hours.

The ascent (in the teeniest plane I’ve ever seen) was surprisingly tranquil.

Although I’ve always been scared of flying, compared to what was about to come this part felt like a breeze – a sign that just by boarding the plane, my comfort zone had already expanded significantly.

Costa Rica is stunning from the ground, but from lofty heights her beauty is impossible to capture in words.

My one non-negotiable was that I got to jump first; the idea of watching our friend Ruby disappear off the ledge into the abyss was one more obstacle I decided I didn’t need to overcome right now.

It helped to know that Joe was waiting in the drop zone several miles below us, a welcome incentive to get my arse out of that aircraft.

But, nothing could have prepared me for the deafening rush of air that hit my face when Keko opened the plane door, nor the dizzying anticipation of the jump itself as he began to shimmy me towards it.

When your legs are hanging out of the side of a plane at fifteen thousand feet, shit becomes very surreal.

It becomes even more surreal when seconds later you’re suddenly tumbling through the air at one hundred and sixty miles an hour.

But, it’s crazy how quickly you become normalized to something that, only moments beforehand, filled you with inconceivable dread.

As soon as Keko distracted me from the shock of the jump by pointing out towards the glittering horizon, I was no longer afraid.

Because I wasn’t falling, I was gliding.

I was free.

I was euphoric.

Not purely as a result of the view – although it was of course breathtaking - but because, as my consciousness started to catch up with my plummeting body, it dawned on me that I’d just conquered one of my biggest fears, despite all the excuses and subconscious attempts to keep my feet safely on the ground, in the prison of my comfort zone.

Within a matter of seconds of jumping, my identity had transformed entirely.

I was now a person who had jumped out of a plane.

I was a different woman to the one that had boarded it.

I had leapt, and the net had appeared.

The following week, I got a tiny tattoo of a plane on my left wrist as a reminder of this new identity:

The woman who’d felt the fear to a colossal extent, and jumped anyway.

The twists and turns of this whole experience could not have been more reminiscent of the journey I’d been on several years before when I’d committed to majorly upgrading my identity, but this time, in relation to love.

It had taken an agonizing heartbreak to show me that if I wanted to one day have a lasting relationship, I was going to have to show up in my love life in a way I’d never done before.

Because the kind of man I wanted to ultimately end up with was not going to be attracted to the immature, teenage antics I’d been demonstrating in the romantic arena at that time.

Having now worked with hundreds of women wanting to attract their dream partner and relationship, it’s become clear to me that the single biggest block preventing us from making our dream romantic scenario a reality is that our current identity is not yet a match for that level of relationship.

Just think about it…

If you were in a healthy, happy, soulful partnership with the love of your life, would you really be wasting your time analyzing lukewarm Whatsapp messages from a guy you’ve been on two dates with, mining for non-existent subtext?

Would you spend hours and hours scrolling through dating apps (instead of being present in your other relationships or work life), desperately willing someone to match with you so that you can feel that transient jolt of validation – that you know will evaporate as fast as it materialized?

Would you have sex with a stranger you don’t even fancy, just to remind yourself that you’re still desirable?

Would you make a real song and dance about being “the only single one left in the ENTIRE WORLD” every time you saw a post on social media announcing a new engagement?

Would you get wasted and barrage your Ex with texts and calls (or even turn up on their doorstep at three in the morning) because you’d rather suffer the inevitable humiliation and remorse than the burning sting of loneliness?

No, you would not.

You can’t get an adult relationship by behaving like a lovestruck teenager.

Convincing yourself that you’ll show up differently in love once you have a partner is not only naïve, it’s pretty bloody selfish, actually.

A romantic partner is a human being, not a magic pill to fix your lack of self-worth. You’ve got to do that all by yourself, my love.

A solid relationship requires patience, self-awareness and maturity.

It’s a result of two whole beings coming together and recognizing that they don’t need one another, they desire one another.

And to be blunt, if you’re not willing to put in the work it takes to become ready for the incredible relationship you say you want, then you don’t really deserve it.

I know that sounds harsh, but in a culture that fetishizes motivational smackdowns in the form of #realtalk and #noexcuses when it comes to our career, in the arena of dating and love we seriously need to grow a backbone.

We need to stop saying that getting a great relationship means EVERYTHING to us, unless we’re actually prepared to take full responsibility for upgrading the results we’re currently getting in our love life. Unless we’re actually prepared to get outside our comfort zone and start cleaning up the unhelpful thought processes and language we use to describe our romantic status. Unless we’re actually prepared to stop looking outside of ourselves for the partner we want to GET, and start looking inside of ourselves for the partner we want to BE. 

Make no mistake, my friend: attracting a great relationship is not a question of luck; it’s a question of whether or not our identity is a match for it.


How do you think your current identity may be holding you back from getting the love life you really want?

What’s one step you can take today to upgrade your identity and become a magnet for healthy, soulful, lasting love?

Share with me below!

Love Persia xxx