1 Post Without Fear.

I read a post recently about a woman who posted 100 days without fear. Well, to be honest, I skimmed it. She made a list of 100 things that scared her and she did/overcame them one at a time. My initial thought was what a neat idea this was and I definitely want to jump on the band wagon and try it.

Now, not to sound like a bad ass, but I couldn’t think of that many things that scare  me. Snakes, planes, piercings, walking at night, dogs, ect. were some of the typical fears she had. Most of her fears seemed pretty boring and unbelievable to me (afraid of dogs, cats, diapers??), but hey, the idea behind it is great. Anyway, most tangible or physical things don’t scare me enough not to try them. Enough chicken bawking does the trick to get me to do things that do scare me.

She had one that caught my eye, like being invisible or unnoticed. That struck me– very universal fears I believe. She executed it by pretending to be homeless on a sidewalk, with a box for money. I’m not sure that was the best way to tackle that fear, but I got the point.

My point: I wanted to know what terrified me.  I sat and thought of things that really scared me. Truly things I couldn’t handle. I came up with 2: 1. Being forgotten 2. Being left.

You’d think I grew up in a broken home or an orphanage. Nope. Upper-middle-class-my-parents-love-me-never-been-spanked-happy-family. Never had a boyfriend who abused me verbally or physically, all really kind men, actually. I don’t know how to tackle them in a jaunty YouTube video like Petting-A-Dog-Girl (not a joke) or really where they stem from. I realized recently that I “lock” or save texts from people that make me feel good. I have a lot from guys who have left or rejected me. Go figure. Erasing those messages, those little bits of happiness that validates someone cares about me, is something I can’t do, yet. I say “yet” because I know at some point I won’t need to save them.

Being left? Not much I can do about that.

I suppose knowing my fears are better than denying them. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing but I guess this post is my 100 Days Without Fear.

I feel better knowing that I’m not afraid of a bikini wax, though.



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