I’ve spent a goodly portion of my life living in fear.
Mostly fear of failing, which kept me from ever really going for anything big. But also, fear of the Other.
The Other isn’t some mythical, mystical beast that preys on young children in dark, creepy forests. No, the Other is whoever singularly or collectively frightens us in a way that drives our thoughts, belief systems, and actions.
Mostly, the Other seems so scary because they are in some way different than us. We can’t understand their perspectives or experiences, so therefore we believe we can’t trust them. And if we can’t trust them, we must be wary of them.
Right?
Actually, the “Other” Isn’t the Problem
My Others were anyone who had real success.
Those who seemed to have it all together: The glittery, shiny ones who dressed expensively, laughed without reservation, and turned to gold everything they touched. Sexy humans who moved through the world with seemingly effortless confidence, who knew just what to say and when, who made people smile, who influenced others (and who always looked damn fine doing it, with their straight, white teeth and perfectly styled hair).
I believed I was supposed to look and act just like these people, that I couldn’t be successful or fulfilled otherwise. I also believed, wholeheartedly, that I never, ever could be them, that I was destined to be forever stuck in quietness and shadows and that somehow that meant I was less than.
I write about this as if it’s all past tense, but it’s not. I still feel envious when I see an objectively gorgeous woman or read about a newly published author whose successes are eclipsing my own. I often feel underdressed and overwhelmed at social gatherings, and those feelings shape what I do and don’t participate in.
My fear, especially of those I’ve Othered, keeps me from connecting with my fellow humans. It keeps me locked in chains of my own making. My fear, always, limits me in ways no other human ever could.
So this is where I pause. I ask myself, What else am I missing out on because I’m choosing to walk in fear rather than in Love?
What risks aren’t I taking? What money aren’t I making? What amazing soulmate am I ignoring who might be the exact teacher I need in this moment?
Why am I forcing myself to be so small? What am I stealing from myself and my loved ones by refusing to show up in the world as the intelligent and capable woman I know I really am?
And how do I flip this script?
The Problem With Positivity
This is where the edict to “just think positive” fails me. I can’t think my way into being a more brave, confident, and accomplished human being. The only way to convince myself these traits do reside within me is to go out into the world and prove it.
This isn’t an easy thing to do, especially when what we’re used to proclaiming to the world is our shyness, uncertainty, and (ultimately) our worthlessness. How do we ignore those voices we know so well who decided a long time ago who we were allowed to be?
By taking them along with us. By shrugging, taking a deep breath, and letting them scream at us from the top of their lungs while we do the thing anyway.
Those voices shrieked in rage when I decided to finally leave my toxic ex-husband. They panicked when I enrolled in community college to pursue my first-ever bachelor’s degree at the age of 38. They rose in protest when I publicly declared my intention to write and publish a book.
Yet each time I did the thing anyway, those voices grew more and more faint. And I was able to fill those unfamiliar-yet-welcome silences with new words:
You’re beautiful, and strong.
You’re capable, and already perfect in the eyes of God.
You are worthy.
You are worthy.
You are worthy.
Do It Scared
For the longest time, I tried to do what I was told by what I now label as toxic-positivity gurus: Think positive thoughts. Turn that frown upside down. Fake it ‘til you make it.
But by focusing solely on “thinking positive,” we ignore the gift our other emotions are trying to give us: an opportunity to soften and heal something that which no longer serves us.
I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a semblance of a smile while trying to force myself to radiate positivity outward with the insane hope it would somehow reflect back to my insides and incinerate the dark and twisted landscapes I roamed there.
Of course, it never worked. And every time I didn’t feel happy like they told me I was supposed to, I felt like a failure – which just reinforced my existing beliefs about myself.
The problem was that I hadn’t yet gone out into the world and done anything that would prove my voices wrong. I could sit there and fake smile all I wanted while telling myself how great I was, but I couldn’t actually believe in and behave from those words because there wasn’t any evidence to back it up.
This is why thoughts alone simply aren’t enough to change our worlds. This is hard for some of us to hear: There is no easy way out.
In fact, there’s no way “out” at all. There’s only through.
Authentic Freedom and Genuine Joy
We must do real work, and take real action, in order to facilitate the changes we say we want to experience in our lives. And we must take those actions bravely amid our fear to make the fear go away.
If we sit and wait for the fear to dissipate before we move, we’ll be in the exact same place next week (next year, a decade from now, a lifetime from now) still just waiting, still afraid, still stuck.
But what happens when I move across the separation I myself created to say hello to the Other? What fears soften and dissipate with that simple invitation?
Where might I be next week (next year, a decade from now, a liftetime from now) if I don’t wait for my fear to subside but rather get up and do the thing while still feeling afraid?
How ’bout it? Can we do the thing — welcome the Other — even while we’re scared? Why not try? What do we have to lose, except, perhaps, an outgrown belief and fear?
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Dawn, I loved this oh so much. Thank you for putting this together so eloquently and not to mention encouraging. This was just what I needed to read tonight.
Cheers to moving through it and being scared.
❤️ Ashley
Hi Ashley,
Thank you for sharing! I love hearing how you connected with this.
Here’s to doing it scared. 🙂