As we embark upon the warm and often festive days of summer, I excitedly anticipate the opportunity to soak up the sun, feel the sand slither between my toes, and occasionally immerse into icy water.

Throughout my entire life, I’ve always been a toe dipper. I’ve preferred easing my way into the swimming pool instead of submitting myself to the freezing arms of the water before knowing just exactly what to expect. I couldn’t bare the idea of not testing it first. Almost every time, I found that the water was colder than my liking. I loathed the goose bumps that pricked through my skin and paralyzed my limbs. I hated not being in control.

Instead of taking one giant jump like everyone else, I quickly backed out and returned to my sunny place where I comfortably watched my friends and family acclimate to the water from afar. The irony now at this point in my life is the transition from a little girl with fears of the unknown into a young lady immersing herself into the reality of adulthood, but this is one kind of immersing I can’t back out of.

To some, this transition comes naturally, much like embracing the euphoria of cannonballing into a swimming pool without a second thought. To others, approaching the future requires a little more care and caution.

But reluctance is exhausting. As the reality of starting my last semester of college lingers over my head, I’m beginning to realize that approaching adulthood the same way I approach a swimming pool isn't as simple. It’s impossible to keep one foot in my childhood and the other in the door of adulthood in an attempt to maintain a perfect equilibrium. The two opposing forces demand to be lived but not at the same time. This means letting go. This means graduating from submerging my ankles to taking plunges. This is growing up.

There’s no such thing as a free trial run for adulthood. I can’t back out of growing up if I decide that making strides towards my career and crafting a post-college path gets to be too intimidating. The longer I hesitate to move forward with my life and experience new things, the longer I burn in the sun and watch everyone else swim.

So, I’ve decided. What better way to test this water than to jump right in?

As a senior in college, the time is now to start making moves toward starting the next chapter of my life. I've sat along the side of the pool for far too long because I was afraid of the unknown. Afraid to lose control. Afraid to live simply.

But why should I refrain from becoming acquainted with potentially great opportunities just to sit back and wrestle around with the idea of them while everyone else adequately adjusts? I'm taking the plunge.