Oct 23rd, 2026 Friday Sunny
I just had a humiliating realization about myself: I seem to have anxiety around water.
It is not some serious psychological disorder that must be diagnosed and dealt with. Only an awareness that many people are natural swimmers, and I am certainly not one of them.
My husband, for example, feels very comfortable in pools, lake, or even the ocean. Although he by no means claims to be a champion in any competition, once he is in waves he is at ease. He can lie on the surface, goof around in all sorts of positions, and dive down to play. He completely enjoys himself as if this were a second nature.
On our recent trip to Puerto Rico, at my request, we allocated one day to snorkel near Fajardo. Having heard about this low-barrier relaxing water “sport” (I know plenty of divers would snort at this notion), I am determined to give it a go.
We have faithfully equipped all the appropriate apparel, applied certified coral-safe sunscreen, and rented full sets of gear. The day was warm, sunny, with a tender breeze, as perfect as could be for some leisure time at the beach (some local families could testify that by bringing out their chairs, coolers filled with beer, and speakers blasting music of samba, salsa, and merengue).
To start slow and give ourselves (mostly me) a little while to adjust, we set out in very shallow areas near the shore. My husband jumped right in, and I hesitated for a couple of moments before finally putting my face underwater. After a few strokes, I paused and stood up, telling myself that this would be fine.
Of course, the more interesting marine life would not be found in regions where a typical adult could easily touch on their feet, so we must go farther. And deeper. I thought I was ready.
A short distance into the sea, a few reefs have been found, providing interesting opportunities to spot all kinds of fish. Aiming to explore one of these, we began swimming. In one minute or so, I wanted to raise my head and take a breather, only to find myself unable to prevent my body from sinking.
A sense of panic struck me, as I struggled to stay afloat. Treading water like crazy, I felt my heart pounding faster, and my muscles tiring quickly. I managed to reach a piece of sand where I could step on and rest.
In the end, I decided to put on a life jacket, which became a game changer – it is an assurance that I would NOT drown, and I would be safe even if I have lost all my strength.
That allowed me to forget about all the worries and simply go with the flow. To my surprise, this felt a lot easier.
It seems that the tides have their own rhythm. If I were to resist it and maintain the control of my “usual posture”, it requires tremendous endeavor. In contrast, if I were to give up my obsession over “being straight”, it is almost effortless.
Watching the colorful angelfish, spiky lionfish, blue tangs, and an elegant Hawksbill sea turtle going about their life, drifting and zooming around their natural home, I finally understood the appeal of snorkeling.