I’ve come to believe that FEAR is — hands down — the single biggest thing that holds us back in life.
And it is such a chameleon: in me, it sometimes shows up as over-attachment, other times it masquerades as anger and, in the hardest times, it manifests in a quiet withdrawal from those I love most. I once wrote a “Dear John” letter to my fear (shared below). But even after that breakup, I’m reminded in ways big and small just how deep fear’s roots extend.
One moment, which I found poignant and even a little comical, came about a year ago when I was trying to usher my slowpoke girls to school. “What will happen if we’re late?” my then 6-year-old asked. “If we’re late, we’re going to be in trouble,” I said.
My response stopped me in my tracks. Here I was, a nearly 40-year-old woman who was afraid of being a few minutes tardy — TO KINDERGARTEN. What kind of trouble was I expecting?? To be called out in front of the class? To be rapped on the knuckles with the ruler? To be expelled??
As the absurdity hit me, I laughed at myself. In doing so, I LAUGHED AT FEAR. And, in the awakening of that moment, I got a little less stuck.
Have you ever thought of your relationship with fear? How it guides you, influences your actions, fuels your reactions? If you were to write a letter to fear, what would it say? Give it a try. You’ve got nothing to lose.
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My Dear Fear:
Oh, what a journey we’ve had!
In my earliest years, you were nowhere to be found. I had no idea you even existed! I went through life unaware there was anything to be afraid of… such is the blissful life as a happy little kid. Then, as I grew up, I learned there was some real negativity in the world and things that warranted a healthy dose of you. The older I got, the more I encountered the other thugs in your circle: Anger, Uncertainty and Sadness.
In my teenage years, you had a strong hold on my heart, and I tried to break free by making new friends I thought would have my back: Aggression, Recklessness, Rebellion. But they only encouraged me to make terrible choices. I didn’t honor myself in any way.
By my 20s, I’d done so many things I realized were foolish that I did a 180 and became Uber-Responsible. In my 30s, I focused on Perfectionism (which Elizabeth Gilbert calls “just fear in really good shoes“). I craved Security – and as I built my nest, you kept me from making dangerous choices. You kept me safe in the bud.
But then I realized, my dear Fear, that you were keeping me TOO safe in the bud. Your tight grip kept me from fully blossoming, in the right ways. Because of you, I felt Stuck. Suffocated. Dying to break away.
A while ago, I started seeing other people – and it’s been so freeing. I’m now with Courage, Authenticity and Intuition. I’ve learned to embrace Change and cultivate Mindfulness.
I’ll never forget the good times we had and I thank you for keeping me safe all those years, but please understand that it’s over. I’ve moved on.
It’s not you, it’s me. (Okay, it’s you — just trying to be nice.)
Love, Becky
