Before college, we’re told to pack our bags, pick our majors, and prepare for “the real world.” But what prepares us to truly show up as ourselves? For one 56-year-old mother and special education teacher, Lynn Jodeit Ouellette, the real preparation happened not in a lecture hall, but in a canoe, deep in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota on an Outward Bound course during the summer of 1987.
Over 30 years later, her time in the wild remains vivid—not because of perfect moments, but because of the uncomfortable, messy, and sometimes scary ones. Moments that demanded trust, courage, and a radical rethinking of what it meant to be “enough.”
Nature Doesn’t Care What You Look Like—And That’s a Gift
Coming out of high school, most teenagers carry invisible weights: peer pressure, insecurity, comparison. Lynn was no different. “I had struggled with eating disorders, and my body was unhealthy for a number of years prior to this experience,” she said. But Outward Bound wasn’t about how she looked—it was about what she could do.
“In the Boundary Waters, you don’t just glide along. You carry the canoes. You portage through rugged paths, shoulder the weight alongside everyone else. My body was strong. Not big, but strong. I wasn’t the one leading the canoe; I was steady in the back, holding my ground. And that strength mattered. It was needed,” Lynn reflected. “Being there, doing that, I built a quiet physical confidence. It was a way of proving, first to myself and then to anyone who doubted, that I could do it.”
Photo Credit: Colleen Meas, Outward Bound USA (VOBS 2024)
The wilderness has a way of stripping things down to what matters. There are no filtered images or comparisons. There’s only the rhythm of the trail, the sound of paddles cutting water, and the quiet knowledge that every step forward is something earned. This experience allowed Lynn to see her body as a partner in survival and exploration—muddy, bitten, and fully alive.
Fear is a Muscle You Can Train
One of her most vivid memories was climbing a rock face—despite her intense fear of heights. “I had vertigo. I was physically terrified,” she laughed. “Other people were blindfolding themselves for fun!”
But she did it. Slowly. Supported by patient teammates and a safely rigged harness, she ascended. “The way down didn’t scare me at all—it was fun.”
That was a huge moment.
The experience planted a seed. “I’ve done a lot of hard things since then—college, tough decisions, moments where I had to walk away from danger. And I think, every time, I drew on that feeling of doing something even though I was afraid.”
Teamwork Without the Competition
Unlike the competitive atmosphere of high school, Outward Bound was about collaboration. Everyone had something to offer, and there was no time for ego when there were canoes to carry, meals to cook, and routes to navigate.
“In nature, you’re just trying to get through the day together. And because everyone’s strengths are different, you learn to listen, to respect each other, and to make decisions as a group. It’s not about who’s the best. It’s about getting it done.”
That lesson carried forward into her college life and career. As a teacher, she sees how rare and valuable those real-life team-building experiences are, especially now.
“Today, everything is so safe, so structured. Kids don’t get to scrape their knees or get bit by mosquitoes. But those things matter. They toughen you up in the best way. You need some risk to build grit.”
Lynn hiking (Provided by Lynn O.)
Solitude as a Source of Strength
Part of the Outward Bound experience included a solo night, alone in the woods, with only a notebook and the stars.
“I thought I’d be scared of the bears. I didn’t know how I was going to handle it,” she said, “But, it was peaceful. It felt like the perfect time to think. I just wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I made some grown-up decisions about my next chapter. And, I still have that little notebook.”
That solo time wasn’t just a break from the group; it was a surprising moment of personal reckoning. Without distraction, she faced herself and left with clarity and confidence for the next step in life.
Redefining “Beautiful”
Today, as a mother and educator, she’s passionate about helping young people—especially girls—see their bodies not as problems to fix, but as tools for living a full, meaningful life.
Lynn teaching (Provided by Lynn O.)
“There were no mirrors out there. But I felt more beautiful than I ever had. Because I was strong. I was useful. I was part of something beautiful.”
She speaks of the layers of self like the rings of a tree, each experience adding depth and meaning.
“My 56-year-old self carries every younger version of me,” she says. “All of them live in me still.” And rather than feeling diminished with age, she feels more beautiful now than she ever did. Not because of how she looks, but because she finally trusts her body. And herself.
“I wish younger people could feel that from the start. To know their bodies are powerful, functional, worthy. That beauty isn’t something you age out of. It’s something that grows with you.” She tells her kids, and anyone younger who’ll listen, to savor every age. To trust their bodies. To live fully in them. “You’re only going to be this age once,” she said. “Use it. Celebrate it. You’re beautiful at every stage.”
Final Advice for Anyone on the Edge of a Big Change
If I could write a letter to my younger self I’d say: Step into it. Try something that scares you… Outward Bound will help you clear your head and prepare for what’s next.
Outward Bound gave her something no orientation week ever could, a place to practice bravery, belonging, and belief in her own resilience.
“And hey,” she added, “It’s definitely more memorable than renting a beach house and partying.”
You can read Lynn’s self-published blog post about her Voyageur Outward Bound School experience on her own blog here.
The post Into the Wild, Into Yourself: What Nature Taught Me Before College appeared first on Outward Bound Blog.
