Bike Incident

So I now have my Dad's lovely bike. 2003 Harley Davidson Heritage Softtail. I knew that bike was big and had a lot of horsepower. However tonight Ricky suggested I take it out for a spin. It started all good. I was a little shaky...and a little nervous. I took the turns wide. And felt a bit shaky at each stop, but figured after some practice I'd get better. So I hit a stop sign. Stopped. Felt a little shaky but continued onward. Ricky rode behind me ensuring my safety. Next Stop. Downward slope. Stop sign. I stopped. I fell. I felt it immediately. That loss of control. It started to fall and all I could think was, "Don't get pinned. Don't get pinned." It was my worst fear come to fruition. I lifted my leg and the bike fell below me. I started to feel heat on my other leg and I abruptly left to the side. I looked down and then I looked back. Ricky was right behind me. He rushed to my side. Lifted the bike and said, "I don't know why you went this way." I looked all around, he was right. But I was trying to avoid other obstacles down other paths. I took a deep breath. I survived. He jumped on my bike, and I jumped on his. His was much lighter than I remembered. When I first rode it, it felt so big and bulky. Now it felt lighter than air. I rode it back, a bit jittery at times. Partly due to my mental state after the accident. I circled around a few times, but much more secure in my ability to ride this lighter bike. I finally came back to the elevated carport, partly scared that I would lay another bike down, but I made it up the curb and the hill and the carport columns and stopped the bike. I made sure I was in neutral, turned the key, and got off the bike. Ricky rode in next to me. I threw off my gloves and helmet and doubted my ability to ride again. I shouldn't be so scared, so frazzled, so jittery. I was told that every biker lays down their bike at least once. It was a big bike. I knew this. It was also unstable ground. But none of this mattered. I failed. And it was a dangerous fail to boot. All the warnings from my friends and family rolled around in my head. Lord know I've done dangerous things before. Learning to drive. Learning to drive a stick shift. Speeding. Having a baby. But this new experience...I had to remind myself why I was doing this. Dad's bike meant a lot to me. I wanted to learn something new again. I wanted to be good at something I felt completely awkward at. Like learning a new job. Getting into a new relationship. Being a mother. Why am I doing this? Because I have to push myself beyond my comfort zone. I need to. I'm just freaked out because of the risk. I was always not a Daddy's girl in this way. He always ribbed me for my lack of risk taking. I can do this. I just need to do it smartly.