The Scared One
The Scared One
Like Shrek says, “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. You get it? We both have layers.”
I was always the scared one.
Scared of flies and grass as a baby.
Scared of walking into a room full of people I didn’t know.
Scared of trying new things, heights, feeling stupid, playing sports, and being out of my comfort zone. Just to name a few…
I remember this one moment. I was a few months into dating someone. He was doing a challenge of some sort that I quite honestly cannot remember what it’s called and they needed more girls to play kickball. To any regular person, that’s not a big deal. Right? It’s just kickball. You kick the ball. You run. You catch the ball. You get people out? Something like that. Well, see, sports are not my thing. Or rather, I was never good at them or enjoyed them growing up. It may have something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t say I liked looking stupid, and well to learn new things, that’s part of the game. Either way, I got full on anxiety when he asked me to play kickball. I think we even got into a bit of frustration because of it. I wanted to play because he wanted me to play. I didn’t want to play because I was 99.9% sure I was going to suck and I didn’t want to get laughed at. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I mean it’s fucking kickball! Who cares? But I did.
I didn’t play. I was too scared. Too anxious. He got over it but I didn’t. We eventually broke up, but that was one of the moments that stuck with me. Not because of our relationship, but because I let a small fear, even though it felt big, hold me back from doing something fun.
I didn’t want to keep doing that. So that next year, I decided I was going to stop letting fear get in the way of doing the things I wanted to do.
It’s funny how fear has layers.
Like Shrek says, “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. You get it? We both have layers.”
That will always be my favorite quote. Because it’s so damn true. Lessons, healing, fears, and people. We all have layers. And when we think we’ve found the bottom, there’s often more.
Up til that point, the dodgeball point, I had already faced so many fears. Right? I was the scared one. I had to face fears to live!
Afraid of roller coasters and heights? Kicked that one in high school. I love roller coasters.
Going to college? I hated walking into a room of people I didn’t know. What did I do? I went to the college 4 hours away that was WAY out of my comfort zone. One of the best decisions I ever made.
In college? I was so shy I couldn’t order pizza and still hated meeting new people. So I started a business where the only way I would make money was by talking to people. In my first full year in business, I was #4 in sales. My second year I was #2 and then spent the next several years rotating between 1 and 2. ME! The shy, quiet girl. In sales.
I had faced fears but I was still scared. So I started doing things that scared me. Ironically that was 2020 when my options were limited but I did it anyway.
I had a friend teach me how to play volleyball because sports scared me. I still mostly suck, and I still don’t like feeling stupid, but I’ll at least play now.
I camped in a tent by myself for the first time.
I drove across the country by myself with no real plan and $8000 in my back pocket.
I went camping with a bunch of strangers. And then I did it again. I’ve flown across the world, jumped off cliffs, zip-lined, and had vulnerable conversations.
Each time I faced a fear or a group of fears, I had this moment with myself. “I don’t want to let fear hold me back. I don’t want to miss out on fun things with my friends because I’m afraid. I know I have to have this conversation to grow.”
I do it. I face the fear.
I love it—the feeling of pushing yourself past that comfort zone, how proud you feel because you did it. In my case, I usually end up LOVING what I did (see: ziplining, cliff jumping, making friends—that adrenaline rush like woah), or it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, and you end up better on the other side.
Fear though, it’s a pretty sticky thing.
Sticky as in, it STICKS to your side, and like our friend, Shrek mentions, “It has layers.”
I’m at a point in my life where I have told fear to fuck off many times and I’m so grateful. I’m no longer that super shy girl who couldn’t make her own doctors appointments. Not only do I make my appointments, but I’ve driven across the country in 30 hours to outrun an ice storm by myself.
I love when my dad tells his friends this stuff, and they go “Is she fucking crazy?” Maybe.
I’m at this point in my life though at this place I’ve known for a while, I’ve peeled back these layers of fear. I wouldn’t quite call them surface level, but they weren’t THE fear.
The one that holds me back. That one that would rather me go jump out of a perfectly good plane than face this fear.
The one that has caused me to self-sabotage or keep myself guarded time and time again.
The fear of going all in on myself.
The fear of going all in on myself.
What happens if I say it a third time? Does Rafiki appear in the mirror and tell me to knock it off?
I’ve done big things. I’ve done brave things. I’ve done hard things.
Yet, I’ve managed to keep myself fairly small through it all.
I can feel it in my body. It’s not right. I feel the resentment. The cage. The frustration. The survival.
It’s like the fencing you have for toddlers, where you can add another piece, and it gets slightly bigger. There’s just a little more room, but when you zoom out, you’re still fucking boxed in.
I have zero doubts in my body, heart, and soul that I am made for more. I’m not here to follow the rules, or keep up with society. In some ways, I’m meant to go back in time to what we’re truly here for, and in some ways, I’m here to create something entirely new.
It’s not about grinding girl boss success anymore. It’s not 9-5ey life. It’s this soft, yet powerful, homey yet wild, real life filled with mess, love, relationships, voice, art, community, and adventure.
It’s a kaleidoscope of emotions and color.
I know it. I can feel the sensation of her pulsing through my body. Telling me it’s time. It’s beyond time.
But I’m scared. I don’t know exactly what this life looks like. I don’t have all the pieces planned out or even know where the damn treasure map is.
I don’t know how it will change my relationships, my people, and my community.
I don’t know who will show up, come back, or leave.
I don’t know if that means I have to burn it all to the ground and start fresh.
Will I have to break my own heart?
What does that even look like?
I think that’s one of the things that holds me back the most. What does it look like to go all in on yourself? How does that version of me move?
I just started working through
‘s Make Art & Be Hot course. She talks about how when we start putting our art out there, it doesn’t mean it’s all figured out, set in stone, all at once. Each piece, every poem, all the strands of spaghetti stuck to the wall, and the floor, and the ceiling, are building blocks. They are the pieces that create your collection of art, and in my opinion, your life. Each piece, whether it be words or pottery, or videos, helps you figure out what you like and what you don’t. Each piece allows for more color, more nuance, and more complexity.Maybe that’s one part of where we start. It’s not about knowing what it’s all going to look like. I’ve learned over the years, that when you plan out every move, it’s likely that the universe is going to have a hold my beer moment and show you how they can do it better.
So maybe it’s better to start here. What do I know for sure? What feels right? What are the building blocks to start leaning in?
Coupling that with a different take on fear.
In the past, it’s always been something cliche like feeling the fear and doing it anyway. Sometimes it’s telling fear to get lost, usually with a whole parade of creative cussing.
Those have their place, but this time it feels like it needs to be a little different.
What if instead of telling fear to fuck off, I grab fear by the hand, and we do it together.
Maybe it’ll feel a little less lonely. Maybe it’ll feel a little more calm.
I was listening to something by
and she talked about the way you know something is right is if it feels exciting and nervous. If it’s all excitement, maybe you haven’t thought it out yet. If it’s all nerves, it’s not quite the right move. Find that sweet spot of both, and you’ve got your moves.I’ve said this before, but I’m at a point where I’ve done “just a little bit” enough. My toes are tired from all the tiptoeing.
I want to run, jump, dance, and stroll into this version of me. Relaxing into my excitement. Leave the worry and stress at home, and bury it in the backyard with my garden that needs to be dug up for winter.
Ready, fear?