Can I tell you a secret?
I’m scared.
Pretty much all the time. Have been for as long as I remember.
- I’m afraid of messing up.
- I’m afraid of disapproval.
- I’m afraid of breaking rules.
- I’m afraid I’m not smart enough to succeed.
- I’m afraid of getting lost.
- And sometimes I don’t know what I’m afraid of. I’m just afraid.
When I was 18, I was afraid to order my own chicken nuggets at McDonald’s or talk to the motor vehicle department on the phone. Now in my 40s, I’m afraid I’ll get in the wrong line at the airport. Talking to the TSA agents or people at the desk ties my stomach into knots.
I’m afraid every single day that my boss will suddenly realize that I’m incompetent and he’ll fire me.
I never stopped being afraid of the dark.
And writing this blog terrifies me. I can’t even articulate why.
Now before you think I’m some shrinking violet, you should know – most people have no idea.
My mom knows. My husband knows. And a few close friends over the years have had an inkling. But for the most part, people don’t know that I’m afraid.
Some might think I’m totally making it up.
You see, I have learned to fight it, to overcome it, and to never, never let it rule me. Those closest to me often hear me say, “we cannot live in fear.”
That’s my mantra because I need to hear it. Every day.
Some people seem fearless. But most of us have something that holds us back – some fear that prevents us from being all that we can be.
So here are my tips for dealing with fear. They are the primary ways I cope with mine.
First, ask yourself. Are you allowing fear to keep you from joy?
When I was 18, I dated someone who was fearless. He didn’t care what people thought of him; he just embraced the joy of the moment and lived. I was rather in awe.
He took me country line dancing on occasion, and he was out on the dance floor for nearly every song, whether he knew it or not. He just had FUN.
But I refused to dance unless I knew the song or the steps looked really easy. I was terrified of making a fool of myself, so even though I really wanted to join him, I sat out at least half of the songs and just watched.
To this day I regret that. I had an opportunity to make memories and experience the joy of dancing, but instead, I allowed fear to stop me. I just watched from the sidelines.
I remind myself of how that felt every time I realize I might be letting fear stop me from making memories.
Because of those memories, I swam in the ocean and danced with friends in China. Because of them, I drove to Canada during a blizzard to see a roommate get married.
Those memories prompted me to say yes when a pastor asked me to lead worship in church, and they were in the back of my mind when I decided to join the ladies at my church on a retreat.
Had I let my fear win again on any of those occasions, I would have missed out on all those wonderful memories.
If my fear ever rises up in front of me, I first ask myself – if I don’t face this, will I miss out on something I will regret?
Second, force yourself to get over the silly fears
The boy who took me line dancing quickly realized I was afraid of ordering my own fast-food meals. So he insisted I place my own order. It only took once or twice for me to get past the obviously silly fear. I just needed someone to make me do it.
Now I can talk to service people at restaurants and stores and ask for help, instead of leaving in a panic like I used to.
Similarly, I was afraid of the gym. Last year I tried to sign up but was shaking after simply asking the attendant for information. Last month a friend insisted I join her and we signed up together. Now it doesn’t scare me at all.
Some fears are simply ridiculous. After facing them a few times they will just go away.
That first step, simply doing it despite your fear, is the hardest. But it’s the most important. And the only thing you can do is just do it.
Third, practice ignoring fears that you may never conquer.
My mom had me start singing solos in front of church when I was five years old. I cried the first time, but she was right there with me. She encouraged me to sing over and over again until singing became something I was known for.
The fear never stopped, but I was able to cope with it and perform.
When I was a teenager, one of the boys in my youth group praised my fearlessness after a solo. But he had no idea that before every performance my stomach was in knots and my heart raced. He didn’t see how hard it was for me to keep my hands from shaking.
I kept singing because I loved to sing. I sang publicly because I knew if I ever stopped the fear would catch up with me.
I had to practice ignoring the fear, or it would have won.
So now,
- writing matters, so I write every day, despite the fear in the back of my head.
- People matter, so I socialize every week, despite the butterflies in my stomach.
- Work matters, so I keep going back day after day.
I face the fears because I cannot let them win.
Just like with silly fears, the first step is to just DO it. But then you have to do it again.
And again.
And again.
Until you have a habit of not letting fear stop you from what matters most.
Fourth, lean on the people you trust for encouragement.
Did you notice in all the examples I gave just now I didn’t face fear alone? Someone was always with me, encouraging me to get past it.
I could have listed a myriad of other examples for overcoming my fears, and in every single case, I had a trusted person with me.
- My best friend taught me to socialize,
- My teachers forced me to give speeches,
- My dad (when he was my boss) expected me to call customers and businesses to get my job done,
- My work mentors encourage me to keep growing even when it is hard,
- And my husband regularly reminds me that I should be writing.
We need our community around us, supporting us, pushing us to do what matters. You don’t need to do it alone.
So if your fears are holding you back, lean on your friends and loved ones for strength. And then go face that fear. Over and over and over again.
Until it either goes away or you develop the habit of ignoring it.
Because no fear is worth missing out on making the most out of our brief moments.