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The rain is pouring down so hard that I can’t see where the boat ends and the water begins. Lightning strikes somewhere nearby; the entire ocean is lit up for a brief second before we are plunged back into darkness. I’m standing on the edge of the back deck with my feet halfway off, poised to jump. I grip the side of the boat as tightly as I can while I adjust my scuba mask. I’m in full scuba gear, covered from head to toe in neoprene. Well, not completely head to toe. I lost my scuba boots at some point today. My feet are cold and slippery inside my flippers. Lightning strikes again and my right foot slides inside my fin, causing me to slip. My iron-like grip on the boat saves me from falling into the black water, but not before my guide notices. “Estas bien?” Our guide shouts in my ear over the roar of the storm. Are you okay? I'm trying to be brave but no, I am not in the least bit okay. I’ve been standing here for too long, I should have jumped in at least three minutes ago. I’ve paid to do this, and somewhere deep inside I know I want to get scuba certified but at this very moment, I can’t think of a single reason why I would jump off this boat. I landed in Colombia almost three weeks ago, the beginning of a much-anticipated backpacking trip through the country. I was pushing myself in more ways than one. There is no set end date to this adventure, a first for me. I want to learn Spanish through immersion, I want to spend a prolonged amount of time outside of America, and I want to live my life unafraid of things that are different. With multiple years of negative press, it’s unsurprising that some people fear Colombia. The Colombia of Pablo Escobar was a dangerous and volatile place but it’s changed dramatically over the past decade. Every aspect of Colombia is full of life - from the lush jungles, dense cities, the towering Andes and to the Colombian people themselves. The people are warm and inviting, they’re excited to show off their magnificent country to a new generation that wants to explore it. I stepped off the plane in Bogota and was quickly enveloped in humidity, rapid Spanish and adventure. Bogota will enrapture you, the streets are full of incredible food ranging from hot, crunchy churros to cheese-filled savory arepas. The altitude takes some physical adjustment but there is plenty of food to keep you occupied while your lungs acclimate to the thinner atmosphere. Once I was a bit heavier and my pockets a bit lighter, I caught a bus down to the coast to get my scuba certification. It is here that I encounter my first feeling of anxiety, something I had anticipated would happen much sooner. The Caribbean is wild and untamed as an ocean should be. But with an abundance of ocean wildlife comes some inherent dangers. Despite my desire to live on the wild side, jumping into an ocean teeming with animals in the middle of the night was beyond what I had wished for. I had wanted to be adventurous, but only if there was no actual danger involved. Which takes us back to the edge of the boat, rain striking me from all directions. I can’t let myself be afraid of something just because it’s unknown. That’s why I’m here. That’s why we go to places that we have never been before, try foods we can’t even identify, and talk to strangers in new cities. Because the unknown is the best part of life. It’s another adventure waiting, something that you have simply yet to do. The water is black and tumultuous. The rain pours mercilessly. I look up at the moon and I’m amazed that it can be so bright in rain this thick. My life is mine only, and I have to decide what type of person I want to be. You can be afraid, or you can be afraid and do it anyway. I take a deep breath and step off the boat.