It’s been 21 years since my mother found herself standing with a smile in front of the “Welcome to Parenthood” doormat and when I recently spoke to her of the yo-yo acrobatic act my life has become, she laughed and told me the same thing she’s said for almost every frustration I’ve brought to her since I was twelve:

“You ain’t even sailed through a quarter of the storm yet hun. Wait ‘til the real waves come.”

My prepubescent self didn’t bother too much with jotting down her words and picking apart what she might’ve meant then. But now, as every self-revelational 20-something person does, I’m reconsidering her advice.

At this age we have memories of the struggle high school was, or perhaps the difficulty of transitioning into college, as well as the newfound ability to control our future and make choices that will create some serious ripples in this wave pool we’re all desperately trying not to drown in; for the first time we are able to maintain relationships that’ve stopped meaning an assured prom date and started meaning children and joint accounts. We have stopped getting by with barely passing tests and started fighting for a bachelor’s degree, stopped the childish fervor for play and outdoors to settle for a quiet afternoon spent watching talk-show television.

Not that any of those things are bad to grow into! I certainly enjoy a good laugh from the loveable talk-show hosts myself, but I wonder if we’re sacrificing too much too soon. We have the option to fully explore foreign waters as young adults – but should we be so quick to do so?

If my mother is anywhere close to being right–and I have an inkling she, as well as all the other momma birds out there offering up half-chewed life counseling to our ignorant, starving beaks, will be – I don’t care to sail the whole sea. What’s more, I’m not sure any of us truly need to. Often, I’ve heard the words, “Well, at least I have the experience now,” but I’m not so sure I’m comfortable with that notion anymore.

Have we just become complacent with life and acceptant of any moderately okay opportunity that comes our way with, the thought that we can fall back on gaining experience if we end up with an undesirable outcome? Or is it the other way around?

Have we spent years continually exposing ourselves to the brunt of the storm, diving bow-first into rocky waters, only to wind up beaten and exhausted on the other side? I’m certainly thankful for the knowledge I’ve gained, but I wonder if it makes me any better off than those without it.

I’m beginning to understand not everything in life is a necessary opportunity. Sometimes, we don’t have to choose at all; staying in place isn’t bad. It gives us the time needed to sort ourselves out and put everything together before we try and conquer the world— or at least another set of oncoming waves. No one is born completely self-aware, and when it comes to the critical choices adult life sets before us, it’s easier to choose with confidence if we have a strong basis within ourselves to draw upon. You can’t expect to handle the ocean before you’ve even figured out the kiddie pool, right?

I guess what I’m saying is I’m learning to slow down and appreciate what life is offering me right now, frustrations and all. There will always be frustrations, and at some point I’m sure I’ll look back and consider myself young and foolish to have seen such easy sailing as a struggle.