What I learned from my year of saying yes to every new opportunity

This First Person column is the experience of Samantha McLenaghan, who lives in Moncton, N.B. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

I stood at the start of a fern-lined trail in Norton, N.B., as a gentle breeze rustled through the treetops. A trail that was going to lead me to somewhere I haven’t been before. The reward: an 18-metre waterfall. The problem: To get there, I have to go down steep embankments with rope ladders. 

Three years ago, I wouldn’t have even been standing at this trailhead. I would have called my friends and said I was sick. But I’m no longer that person. Instead, I made jokes with my friends and we hiked down together while I watched my footing. Just as I got to the very last step, I slipped on the wet mud and fell on my behind. 

My friends panicked, but I laughed. I got up and wiped the mud off my pants.

That’s life in a nutshell. You do things, sometimes things don’t go your way, but life goes on. 

I had spent so many years of my life not doing things out of shame and fear. My overthinking brain would come up with every reason why I shouldn’t and I would say no. 

In 2013, I tore my knee while singing and dancing to a rousing rendition of a classic ’90s rap song at karaoke. I required a knee scope, and my no-nonsense surgeon said I needed to lose weight after surgery.

It’s a line I’ve heard my entire life. As if by being told that I needed to lose weight, I would. Like I hadn’t always struggled with it. When I shared my struggles with my surgeon, he recommended bariatric surgery.  The wait was a long one — almost six years from referral to gastric sleeve surgery in 2019. The surgery and subsequent weight loss saved my life — hands down, no regrets. I shed 170 pounds and went from a size 6X to 1X.

I lost more than just weight; I lost some of my fears. 

I was turning 40. Between my son’s football and hockey practices, my own personal desires never made it to my priority list. But with him graduating from high school and on his way to living his life, I decided I needed to make another change in my life as well, and I challenged myself to say yes to new opportunities. No overthinking it. No talking myself out of it. No more worrying about what could go wrong. Instead, I would focus on what could go right by saying yes. 

That’s how in 2020, I decided to embark on a Year of Yes. I was nervous but excited. No more hiding. I jumped in feet first. I camped in a tent for the first time in 15 years. I hiked. I online dated (good thing I have a sense of humour), tried foods I didn’t like (still not a fan of seafood), threw axes (and hit the ceiling), shot guns at the range, swung a softball bat in a batting cage and tried a driving range for the first time. 

I laughed. I thrived. 

The pandemic pushed me to do more things in my own backyard. I experienced more of New Brunswick. I realized that trying new things didn’t mean I had to like everything but that trying  would help me figure out if I liked it or not. Even with the pandemic lockdowns and tough times, 2020 was the best year of my life. 

My friends saw the change in me. Yes, I weighed less but the change in me was something else entirely. So often people are told how great they look based on the weight they have lost. My most common response was “I feel great.” What I also realized is that they saw the joy in my eyes; it wasn’t that they were necessarily telling me I looked better because I had lost 170 pounds.

I began posting snippets of my Year of Yes on social media, and I believe my sense of joy was contagious. Many people reached out to tell me how my journey has inspired them, and that felt amazing. 

Once my Year of Yes was over, I realized that it didn’t have to stop and it transitioned into a Life of Yes.

Though 2021 was a harder year, saying yes to things kept me going. My father became sick and passed away. My aunt also required more care. Additionally, I’m an ASL interpreter for my mom and two aunts, and the pressure all weighed on me. But I’ve realized that taking the time to say yes gave me the opportunity to find my joy within my crazy life.

 Sometimes I forget I’m capable of overcoming hard things. Today, I celebrate my wins no matter the size. I joined the gym. In 2022, I rode a bike for the first time in well over 30 years.

I even got a tattoo of the word that changed my life – “Yes.” It  reminds me every day that one simple word can change your whole life.

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