Leap of faith at 15,000ft - Personal Post

Lately it’s felt a little quieter here. My husband’s away and, if I’m honest, my motivation went with him for a bit. The camera hasn’t come out as much, and for someone who measures life in frames, that feels… strange.

Earlier this year I promised I’d get out of my comfort zone and start offering events—showing up more, saying yes to new opportunities, stretching what “Emily Jane Photography” can be. Not long after, I decided to go even further: raise money for the Eight Foundation, an incredible local charity that changes lives. The intention was simple and huge at the same time—make a difference, raise money, and finally face my fear of heights and falling.

Jump day. Nerves on overdrive (loo trips galore 🙃). Harness on, waiver signed, and suddenly I’m on the wrong side of the camera—trying to smile while someone films me being brave, when all my brain wants to do is leg it. I didn’t really know what to expect.

The plane climbed. My instructor clipped us together with calm, practised hands. Wind roared at the open door. Toes to the edge. Tip forward—no thinking left—just sky.

Freefall is chaos and clarity at the same time. You drop at about 125 mph (slowed by position) and breathing gets weird. The air hits your face so hard your brain forgets how to inhale—so you scream, and that forces air in. Adrenaline everywhere; a little bit sick, a lot alive. Then the biggest surprise: the parachute doesn’t whip you back; it catches you—slowly, almost tenderly. One second is thunder; the next is hush. We glided over a picture-postcard view—patchwork fields, toy towns, silver ribbons of road. If I’d had my camera, I’d have taken a hundred frames. Instead, I let my eyes do the shooting.

Landing felt like stepping back into a new version of myself—wobbly, queasy, teary, grinning. I’d put my life in a stranger’s (very capable) hands and jumped anyway. And on the other side of that door, I found proof that courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s choosing to go anyway.

Gratitude roll-call:

• GoSkydive in Salisbury for making the whole thing feel less daunting from start to finish.

• The seven strangers who jumped with me—instant team energy I didn’t know I needed.

• Their incredible instructors—calm, kind, and quietly hilarious.

• My husband, for supporting me from the other side of the world and not thinking I’m a complete lunatic.

• My honorary auntie and my Dad, who showed up in person for moral support on the day. You two steadied my knees.

And you—this community—showed up too. Your generosity to the Eight Foundation humbled me. Thank you for donating, sharing, cheering. You helped turn “getting out of my comfort zone” into something that will tangibly help people.

If this experience taught me anything, it’s this: meet your fears head-on and take the leap of faith—you can handle more than you think.