But who am I, really? I’m glad you asked. But the truth is, I’m a bit of a (undeniably messy, but always optimistic) work-in-progress. My name is Madeline Millsip, and I was born and raised in beautiful British Columbia, Canada. I am brave, courageous, audacious, honest, gritty, and witty. And I am slowly learning the power of simply leaning into “who I am” at this present moment, instead of being caught up in where I’ve been and what’s to come.

I show others the power of healing outdoors and out loud

But I also understand that woven through THE DAYS OF my past, present, and future is a powerful story of devastation, survival, and hope that cannot be forgotten nor ignored.

In 2019 my Sister's death by suicide stripped me of everything I supposedly knew about life. Amidst horror and a desperation for healing, I reverted to my only truth left: the oceans and the mountains. Growing up in the outdoors, these two elements of the wild had always provided a warm, welcoming embrace. So in the depths of my darkest days, it was only natural to ask myself: If I cannot not find contentment in the outdoors, how could I ever start to trickle it down into the other areas of my life that were desperately searching for it? I needed to rebuild. The only thing I knew with even a semblance of clarity was that the outdoors would need to be my foundation. 

So the year after losing my sister, I leaned further into the outdoors than ever before: trail running local mountains, tackling the Sunshine Coast Trail, conquering my first solo multi-day trip on the West Coast Trail, crushing my first ultramarathon, trail racing for five days in the Costa Rican jungle, and motorcycling across our beautiful province. Along the way, I painfully retrieved pieces of my "self" that had been ripped and torn from my being. But what I soon realized, was that these adventures were only momentary distractions. I would arrive home to a heart still overflowing with despair and a mind still overrun with racing thoughts about life and death.

And then one day, I decided to write them down.

AND THAT'S WHEN THE HEALING—and UNINTENTIONAL MAGIC— FINALLY BEGAN.

It started with barely-legible half-sentences in the notes on my Phone. They were thoughts I was afraid I would lose if I didn't put them somewhere. Then, as my "grief fog" started to lift, I began to transform each half-sentence into precise narratives of the moments spent battling with my mind. They were raw, gritty, unabridged. They were also gentle, considerate, and thoughtful. They were not an outlet for my anger, but rather, a home for my heart.

And then one day, I hit "publish"

At first, sharing publicly came from a place of desperation. Consumed by my grief, I felt isolated and damaged. I wanted nothing more than to have the people around me understand why my eyes were glazed over, why I was the quietest person in the room, why it was an accomplishment for me to wake up or go to sleep. This desperation was so overwhelming that it trumped my fear of judgment; of being perceived as weak, needy, or vying for attention.

And, as the days rolled onward I continued to hit "publish". To my surprise, I was met with nothing but words of affirmation, kindness, love, and admiration. And with it, I realized an even more powerful outcome of sharing publicly: being open about my struggles with grief and loss allowed me to close the gap between the face I show in a crowd and the person I am on the inside. It removed the dissonance between who people saw and who I truly am; lifting a weight off my shoulders and removing a lump from my throat. There would be no more need to decide "when" or "how" or "why" to share. I would simply share when I needed to, without hesitation.

What I've learned as a result, is that there is nothing more freeing than saying your own truth out loud. And that's where it all came together: my desire to show others the power of healing outdoors and out loud.

First, through leading by example, sharing detailed narratives of my own trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the outdoors and with grief and loss (two untangle-able facets of my life)

Second, by providing a collection of resources to equip you with the know-how and courage to get outdoors yourself, and to empower you with the tools to write about your own wild adventures.