One the third day of our to the Cayman Islands, the hotel's concierge recommended an all-day excursion, which included snorkeling, diving for conch shells and relaxing on a remote island off the coast of the resort. I was thrilled to witness some of the most beautiful coral reefs in the Atlantic Ocean. However, I was even more excited to dive for conch shells, which I would be able to take home with me.

As we arrived to our destination, I stood over the edge of the boat, anxious to jump into the 20-foot waters. Before now, the deepest waters I had ever swum in were 10 feet deep at my neighborhood pool. Regardless of my fear, I was determined to acquire one of the precious conch shells that laid on the bottom of the ocean floor for my family.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. I plunged head first into the translucent, sapphire waters in hopes of obtaining enough speed to propel me down to the white, sandy floor. I had minimal time to select my prize, so I grabbed the first one in sight. Eager to show off, I pushed off the bottom of the ocean like a rocket. Unfortunately, the lift-off was not successful: I had underestimated the weight of the conch shell. As my momentum boosted me up toward the surface, my prized possession slipped through my grasp and floated in the opposite direction. I thought retrieving my shell a second time would be an easy task. This assumption led to my almost fatal blunder.

Panic soon set in; my ears popped under pressure, and I was pretty sure my lungs were about to, as well. With little air left in my lungs, I had a split second to decide whether I wanted to give it another shot. Disregarding my survival instinct to resurface for air, I dove back down into the vast unknown. It took every muscle in my body to change the direction of my momentum to catch up with the sinking conch shell. Firmly grasping the elusive trophy and raced towards the sun lit surface for a second time. As I breached for air, holding the shell above my head, I was quickly surrounded by my concerned mom and dad. After boarding the boat, I jokingly thanked my choir director for teaching me proper breathing technique, because I used every ounce of breath in my lungs to turn around, dive into the unknown and reclaim my shell. I felt a strong sense of accomplishment having overcome my fear of the ocean, especially considering my self-doubt in my swimming abilities.

Both determination and a firm grasp were necessary in completing the task of retrieving the shell. This challenging endeavor stretched my comfort zone and taught me to be persistent when faced with failure. Although failure is a key element in the journey to success, I will be reminded that I can overcome any obstacle through persistence and determination. The unknown, whether it is the ocean or the future, inspires me to challenge myself to experience new things, which will ultimately better prepare me for whatever lies ahead. I will always have a visual reminder of these goals and aspirations as my conch shell accompanies me on my next journey (post-grad life…).