Fear.

It can be a catalyst for change or an excuse to cower.

It can be a source of empowerment or the root of resentment.

It can be monumental or completely unnoticed.

It knows no bounds, it does not discriminate, and it weighs upon each and every one of us. Fear is where the pool-bound swimmer meets the ocean. The point at which there is no lifeguard and you cannot see the bottom. No amount of laps or treading water can prepare you for the unpredictable, ever-changing energy of the crashing waves and violent current.

Standing at the edge of the water, comfortably in the sand, the swimmer must face the fear of the unprotected. The blind trust in their ability to stay afloat. The years of training in an unchanging and static pool that they have mastered. This is the test. This is the fear.

In the pool, the swimmer knows their abilities. About how fast they can swim the freestyle for their relay, about how long they can hold their breath. The swimmer has competed, but has never been tested. Yet now, everyone is watching as the student who has mastered the art and the technique of gliding back and forth across the pool enters the ocean. Despite the terrifying reality that the waves and the current and the depths are nothing like the pools of the swimmer’s past, everyone expects them to swim.

The swimmer is the college senior. The ocean is life, approaching faster than the high tide. The fear is that we must step beyond the realm of what we have always done, following the steps to success without the need to take a real risk. Without the ability to truly drown. Everyone looks on as we step into the water, tossing our caps at graduation. Everyone waits for us to swim. Some take off running, surfboard and all. Some didn’t even bother with the pool. But most stand at the edge, staring forward at all they could be, convincing themselves it isn’t possible. It’s too scary. That they are not brave enough to embrace the waves and swim. Yet the whole point of the pool is learning just that - how to swim.

This is fear.

We spend our whole lives in the pool. In high school, then college. In all the correct classes, taking the proper aptitude tests, joining sports, and starting clubs. Applying to schools with good reputations and job placement rates. Studying for respectable grades while managing leadership roles, fitness, and fun. Choosing a major that will be profitable and networking at career fairs. We are the kings and queens of swimming laps. We are so good at it that we would rather prune in the pool than dare to ride the waves of the ocean.

What if we fail? What will the world think if we give up? If we drown, is that better than coming to shore and admitting failure? How can we ever convince ourselves to try again when the first time was so brutal? What if we get run over by the harsh reality of the chilled salt water waves or the impact of the surfboards and boats of the successful? What if we take the easy way out and only ever ride on the boat? Even then, we could fall overboard.

Fear is toxic. Fear is destructive if left unchecked. The worst part? No one will be there to push you into the water. You will have to apply for your jobs. You will have to succeed. It will be an unknown and a new battle to manage. This is the swimmer, without the coach, putting their skills to the test.

Here’s the thing about fear. It will never stop sneaking up on you. No amount of preparation or practice can prepare you for the real thing. No amount of reassurance, taking your time, or easing into it will ever make the fear go away. Fear is healthy for it reminds you to take the issue at hand seriously and to acknowledge the gravity of the choices you make. However, fear does not define you. Fear does not break you. Fear is a given that we all experience, but what defines you is how you overcome that fear.

So how? How do we overcome the fear? Count down from three.

3. This is scary. I know this is scary because if it were easy, everyone would do it. I know there is a chance I may fail but there is also a chance I succeed. My attitude and my work ethic will get me through. I know how to swim, but to swim, I have to get in the water.

2. I will only ever be about 80% prepared for the challenge in front of me and that is okay. If I wait for the last 20% the opportunity will be gone and then there will be a new fear to face. I will break this cycle.

1. I can do this.

3… 2… 1. The only way to prove to yourself that you can swim is to step forward, get into the water, and start.

The shame is not in failure or defeat. The shame is not even in struggling. There is only shame in being too afraid to leave the start line.