Every year my family goes to Maine in the summer to meet up with my mother’s side of the family, who are Americans. Of course, I love seeing my grandparents and my aunt, but the most enjoyable thing about Winter Harbor (the town that we go to) is the sailing program. All my siblings and I have been doing it since we were 7.

Now, most of us complained about it when we were younger, but there was always a year when we started adoring it. We would always be getting up early and excited to start in the morning

For me, this year came when I was 10 (3 years ago). Specifically, it was on an extremely windy, rainy and seemingly miserable day. Now, of course, going out to sail in this weather was terrifying. Soon, however, I was waiting, shivering, for me to be put in the 4-20 (a racing boat), thinking of all the things that could go wrong. As soon as I got on, we sped away from the dock at what felt like 300 miles an hour, the boat at nearly a right angle to the water and me and my partner hiking out on the straps like mad to keep the boat from capsizing. But, despite what I expected, I simply felt so happy, feeling the strength of the wind in the sail, and the power of the ocean underneath the boat. I was so focused, thinking about nothing but the sail and the sea, if you may.

Of course, as things do, the day came to an end, and I headed home, waiting to tell my parents about how much I can’t wait for sailing the next day, my opinion about it changed.