Scared Shitless

Over the last few months, I’ve been doing things that scare the shit out of me. I can hear the raised eyebrows and incredulous looks now, but it’s true. And I’m not talking about sky-diving or skinny-dipping or trying drugs here, because, really, those things are kind of tame compared to the crap I’ve been doing.

And what have I been doing, you might ask? Trying to grow.

I’ve gone to social events when I would much rather stay safely at home. I accepted an invitation to go on a date, even though I thought that (at best) nothing would come of it. Secrets and traumas that I kept tucked away in the deepest recesses of my heart for years were carefully brought out into the light of day. I swallowed the paranoia, fear, and insecurity to start a blog, thoroughly convinced that I’d be lucky to entice five people into reading it.

Each and every time I did one of those things, I was scared shitless—if you were to look up “mess” in the dictionary, you would have found my picture there. But each and every one of those experiences was worthwhile—some of them because the rewards were greater than I could ever have imagined. I have days where I feel like I’m living a fairytale because of Milady—because I hesitantly (and with great trepidation) said “yes” when she asked me out. Other times, the only reward I received was the knowledge that—despite my discomfort, fear, and more than one panic attack—I still did it.

And now that I’m gearing up to do it again, to call up my insecurities and invite my fears for tea, I realize that it doesn’t actually get any easier. The gut-churning terror isn’t diminished, and it doesn’t take an ounce less courage to stand face-to-face with another of my personal demons. The only thing that’s different this time is that I know I’ve done it before, and I’m starting to have faith that I can again.

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

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