There comes a time in everyone’s life when she has to take risks.

I was in deep denial of… There comes a time in everyone’s life when she has to take risks.

I was in deep denial of this truth for most of my life. Taking the safe way was simple and comfortable, and there was no fear of the consequences that may have resulted from living on the edge.

When I was a child, my cousins had a pool surrounded by a deck in their backyard. At the age of seven or so, I thought it was massive, but in reality it was only about three feet deep and 35 feet wide. Now, bear in mind that, height-wise, I already towered over my cousins and brother, only one of whom was actually younger than me.

I truly believed that if I went into the pool, I would drown. It didn’t matter how many times my parents and aunt assured me that I would not; I simply refused to go in. So there I sat, perched on the side of the pool for at least two entire summers of my childhood, dangling my legs in the water and most likely wearing inflatable swimmies that were cutting off the circulation in my outgrown ape arms.

I watched as my cousins and brother splashed around, doing flips and belly flops into the pool, racing laps back and forth and essentially ignoring me. After about a week or so into my resistance, they had given up on attempts to persuade me to get in, and I welcomed the lifted peer pressure.

Everything was fine and dandy, I sat on the deck and sweated, working on my swimmie-tan lines, while my relatives relaxed and cooled off in the pool. I was pleased with this set-up until one especially hot day rolled around. My older cousin’s friend, Morgan, had come over to visit and go swimming. To this day, I don’t believe Morgan surpasses five feet tall, and I think that at that time, she perhaps came up to my shoulder, even though she had had a good four years of growth time on me.

So, I was sitting on the edge of the pool, anticipating another afternoon of studying the wood patterns of the deck or watching the ants crawl around, when Morgan comes running up behind me and shoves me into the pool.

My life flashed before my eyes. This was it. The end. I was going to bite the dust in my family’s pool. So long, cruel, cruel world.

I kicked and thrashed, water invading my lungs, when I kicked something solid. The bottom of the pool. I stood up and my head rose above the water. Well, look at that. I could stand in the stupid pool.

My family had rushed from the house when they saw me go in and now stood crowded around the pool, attempting to pull me out. Morgan just laughed and cannonballed into the water. I don’t think she could even touch the bottom now if she wanted to.

After I recovered from the initial shock of it all, I realized just how much I had psyched myself out about something so insignificant. I had completely skewed my perspective, and in my self-convincing, I had also forced my family to give up on trying to change my mind.

All I had needed was a little push in the right direction.

After that day, my family couldn’t get me out of the pool if they tried. I ditched the swimmies and almost grew gills. But part of me was still angry at Morgan, and I couldn’t figure out why. The truth is, I was mad that I hadn’t figured it out for myself. It took someone else coming along and shoving me out of my comfort zone in order for me to wake up and realize what I was missing.

I resolved to do my own convincing from then on. I must admit, though, sometimes a guiding hand can be very helpful. Now, if someone could just point me in the right direction after I graduate, I would welcome a hard push. But unless I figure it out by myself, whether it’s sooner or later, I won’t ever realize what I could be missing.

Now I try to force my fear and doubts to the side when it comes to a new experience. Although I face decisions that aren’t nearly as simple as jumping into a pool, I remind myself that you have to take leaps of faith every now and then. You never know if you’ll belly-flop or fly until you try.

Need some swimmies? E-mail Jessica at [email protected].