I’m not a thrill seeker. Never have been. Bungee jumping has no allure, and on skis, I very much prefer slaloming through the snow to careening over a jump. I like my adrenaline in small doses.

But when I returned to the Dells last weekend for the first time in years, I thought that my courageousness (or lack there of) might have matured along with the rest of me. Nope.

I waited in line for The Wilderness’s “Hurricane” with a genuine nervousness for the ride I was about to face. I tuned out the joyful chatter of kids in line ahead of me who were barely old enough to read chapter books and thought to myself: “Thousands of people survive this without getting injured everyday. You can too.” And sure enough, despite my amusingly robust wimpiness, I did it. I survived the Hurricane.

It’s not the drop that is scariest on a roller coaster or waterslide; it’s the moment just beforehand. The moment of pent-up anticipation just before the floor drops beneath you. And when I try to take a step back and look at the timeline of my life, that’s the point that I’m at. The lull before the drop. The calm before the storm. But I’m expecting the approaching storm to be much more enjoyable than the Hurricane.

When I think of people in their 20s, I picture people settling into their careers, spending time with friends they’ll have for the rest of their life, and maybe even getting married. Basically, any sitcom rerun that you find on TV. It’s hard to believe that I’ll be turning 20 in a few months, mostly because so much is unknown.

I know I’ll probably study abroad and hopefully get an internship next year, but I don’t know where. There’s a good chance that I’ll find my career, lifelong friends, and wife in the next 10 years, but I don’t know what or who they’ll be. I’m sliding down a dark waterslide, and I can’t see the drop, but I know things are going to start picking up soon.

In general, I’m excited about adulthood. Living independently in a place more spacious than a dorm room sounds fantastic, as does being done with homework forever. Growing up definitely has its perks. But at the same time I need to remind myself that there is no need to rush.

I’m constantly longing for the day I have my life figured out, but the day that I do, I’ll just start missing the times of endless possibilities, of having my whole life ahead of me. I’m at a fleeting stage of my life, so I try to remind myself not to spend too much time being preoccupied about what is next.

I’m at the brink of adulthood, waiting for that period of my life to start moving, but some parts of my life are already flying along. My passions for ultimate Frisbee and photography are well established, and I have no doubt both will be a part of my life until I’m physically incapable of doing them.

I have friends that I’m sure will never drift away, and I have a fear of roller coasters that probably won’t either. Yes, I’m on the edge of acceleration, but when I really think about it, I’m already moving.  At this point, all I can do is enjoy what I have, and like I did on the Hurricane, put the rest on faith. I will survive. And I have a good feeling that this time I’ll enjoy the ride.

(Jacob, the eldest of the four Scobey-Polacheck children, is a sophomore at the University of Notre Dame.)