At 40, I decided to overcome my fear of heights and learn to rock climb. Then I took it one step further and jumped off a cliff.

• My anxiety often stopped me from doing things I wanted to do, and I was sick of it.
• I had a chance to try rock climbing and thought it would be a good way to start tackling my fears.

I've been an anxious person for as long as I can remember, and have had dozens of fears that often stopped me in my tracks. Spiders made my throat tighten up, and I was terrified of heights, public speaking, and deep open water. I was afraid of being embarrassed in public, afraid of home invasions, and afraid of the dark — even as an adult.

When I turned 40, I found myself living alone for the first time in my life, as I'd recently divorced and my kids went to their dad's on the weekends. I struggled to sleep on my own; any little noise made my heart pound and left me on edge for hours. I'd had enough. I was exhausted from my fears affecting my life. It was time to get over some of them.

I decided to start with my fear of heights

Some of my friends had joined the local rock-climbing club and encouraged me to get out of my empty house and join them. I thought it sounded like a good idea. My fear of heights felt like a good place to start, and I wondered if my bravery at tackling this one would rub off on some of my other phobias. Who knows — maybe I'd even be able to get some sleep.

My first experience with rock climbing had been on a school trip when I was 12 years old, and it hadn't gone well. I'd gripped the wall hard, my knuckles turning white, and stepped up onto the lowest foothold. The instructor tightened the rope and encouraged me to climb higher. I begged to be let down, refusing to take another step. After 10 minutes, the instructor gave up and released me.

But now, I had another shot at it. In the first few weeks, I tackled the smallest wall at the indoor climbing gym. The bright-green beginner holds were large with deep grooves and the wall leaned slightly forward, allowing me to brace my body against it as I climbed. My arms shook, but I made it to the top several times, which was a big improvement from my previous experience.

Within a month, I found myself looking forward to climbing night, thinking about how I'd approach some of the harder routes. Soon, my arms stopped shaking, and I wasn't even phased when I fell from a hold. I'd swing meters up in the air with the thin rope as my lifeline, and I felt only excitement and determination to reach the top. Who was this person? I'd never felt so brave and fearless in my life.

And just as I hoped, the brave face I put on when I began my climbing journey started to rub off on my other anxieties. I was far less scared at night, was less and less phased by every noise I heard, and was sleeping much better.

From the climbing gym to the great outdoors

About a year after I joined the climbing club, we were all invited to an outdoor climb with a club from another town. For the uninitiated, outdoor climbs are much scarier. It was near the ocean, so the rocks would be wet and slippery. There are no colorful, conveniently placed — though still challenging — holds, only natural surfaces to grab onto, and though many climbers do bring soft pads, they're placed on top of the hard earth rather than the cushy floor of the gym. The environment is much less controlled, and I was nervous, but I knew I had to do it.

At the cliff face, we took turns climbing up some of the smaller cliffs and abseiling down the largest one. I climbed first, and though it was definitely harder than in the gym, I managed to reach the top without any issues. Jumping off the big cliff though? I wasn't sure I could do it.

Some of my friends went, and then the instructor handed me the rope to thread into my harness. It felt like I was breathing through a straw. Then, I smiled at my friends, closed my eyes, stepped backward off the ledge, and felt all my fear evaporate. "You've got this," I told myself.