The hidden danger of “testing the waters”
June 30th, 2022
Something I’ve been thinking about recently is the idea of “testing the waters”. For those unfamiliar, “testing the waters” is trying something out, typically to a minimal degree, in the hope of gauging whether it’s something you want. In many situations, I think this approach can be enormously helpful. In others, I think it can prove detrimental. Let’s dive in (pun intended) to some examples.
Testing the waters
One of the most common examples of testing the waters is dating. Your first date with someone is likely something non-committal - perhaps coffee or a drink. It will probably take place in a neutral environment (not one of your residences) with ample opportunity to dip out early if things begin to go south. If the date goes well enough and you both decide to continue seeing each other, things will likely begin to escalate. Eventually you’ll visit each other’s places, introduce each other to your friends and family, commit to a relationship, get engaged, etc. etc. This process is a progressive version of testing the waters - you dip your toes in, and if it’s comfortable enough, you begin to ease yourself in until you are either submerged or decide that the water’s not for you and climb back onto dry single-land. I think that testing the waters is incredibly helpful in this case. I personally have no interest in marrying someone that I haven’t spent extensive time with in a variety of different situations.
But what would happen if instead of easing yourself into something, you got a running start and did a cannonball into the center of the pool?
Jumping in
Getting a dog was the one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, though there were many periods of time when I was convinced that it was the worst decision I’ve ever made. In February of 2020, I adopted a 10-week old Golden Retriever / Great Pyrenees mix named Leo. I wanted a big dog, so I got the biggest one I could find: Leo was slated to grow to over 100lbs. I had never raised a puppy before, but was really excited about the idea of having a dog and being there from the start. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with all the eagerness of a naive 22 year-old who had no idea what he was getting into, I picked him up on February 16, 2020.
The next few months were brutal. There were many times I called my parents, anxiously lamenting how I had bitten off more than I could chew (ha pun again) and how I was never going to make it through the puppy stage. The only things truly keeping me from finding him another home were my desire to grow from the experience and the social judgement that I would undergo if I did decide to re-home him. I was put in a position where I didn’t really have a choice. I had to find a way through it - there was no easy way out. As the months, and now years, have passed, our relationship has become something I can’t imagine life without. He’s truly my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade my relationship with him for anything in the world.
Consequences of “testing the waters”
One of my friends offered to watch Leo and my roommate’s dog, Maverick, for a couple days while we were out of town. He was exploring the idea of getting a dog, and wanted to test the waters. He had all the responsibility of two dogs thrust upon him without any real preparation, and was taken aback. Daily walks to the grocery store and the office became daily walks to the grocery store and the office + three additional walks per day (with two canines in tow). At one point he had to break up a dog fight after another dog came after Maverick. After my roommate and I got back, my friend mentioned that he was glad he watched the dogs so he could get a taste of being a dog owner. He decided that it was too much responsibility and that he had no interest in adopting one anymore.
The problem with this, though, is that he didn’t get a taste of what being a dog owner is like - he just felt the weight of the responsibility that comes with owning a dog. My friend didn’t get to experience his puppy sleep through the night for the first time, watch him successfully pee outside after countless attempts at potty training, see him prance around joyously the first time he played in snow, cuddle with him after a really hard day, or watch his friends and family’s friendships with the dog grow over the years, just as his did. He experienced the heaviest parts of dog ownership, and generalized them to the entire experience.
And that brings me to the thesis of this essay: Much of the joy that stems from responsibility arrives after making the commitment. This isn’t true in all cases - you shouldn’t marry somebody that you’re not happy dating. But many successful couples have told me that solid, healthy relationships don’t happen, they’re built. It’s after you put in the effort to make something work, despite the hardship, that worthwhile things begin to take shape. And sometimes it takes a commitment to force yourself to work through something, otherwise you might drop off before the fruits of your labor begin to ripen.
NOTE: This is not a blanket ideology to be blindly applied. Every situation is different - I am by no means encouraging you to make commitments without regard for the consequences. This is simply a thought exercise that I’ve found helpful when evaluating whether or not to take on responsibility. It’s also worth noting that the opposite can apply here too - the “honeymoon phase” often doesn’t last forever.