Hello Fear,

I never thought I would muster up the courage to speak to you, but here goes…

You are an impalpable entity that penetrates my thoughts without welcome. You seep your poison into my dreams and turn them into conceivable nightmares. It’s like you have radar that detects my goals, and you smack me with every prospective hazard that may arise.

I hate you for freezing me inside of you—frozen in fear, as they say—and whispering dangers in my ear.

I hate you for convincing me I am not capable and leaving me stagnant in the confines of my comfort zone.

But mostly, I do not hate you very much at all. And I think this bothers you.

While you have held me back from opportunities, you have also saved me from bad decisions. You are the nagging mother that always gets the last word in and reminds me of the consequences of my actions. Without you, I likely would have made an insurmountable amount of mistakes throughout my years. Remember the days when I was a toddler, giggling and trusting without question? If it weren’t for your presence, I might have trusted the wrong people—like strangers in a grocery store. So, thanks for never letting me roam off without my parents. Let’s not forget about my angsty teenage years, when Peer Pressure challenged your strength. Oh man, was Peer Pressure convincing at times. But, you always seemed to swoop in and prove your power. You let me make my silly mistakes, but you always interfered when you saw fit. You are the angel on my shoulder, guiding me toward safety.

But you are also the devil on my shoulder. And sometimes, you need to learn when to sit back and let me experience what I long for without your paralyzing comments. It’s never easy to hear your flaws, but please listen to me. Also, let’s be real—you never cease to remind me of my imperfections, so it’s your turn to be put in the hot seat.

I understand your importance during life-threatening moments when my decisions need to be influenced by your presence. But I resent you for stopping me from going on trips or attending events because you are there, lurking in the shadows. You are terrifying, invisible, and intangible. Your hand hush my words and manipulate my thoughts.

So, Fear. I need you. But I don’t need all of you. I am not begging you to leave me alone, just simply telling you that I will not let you influence my goals. I will listen to you when I feel it is necessary and ignore you like I ignore my mother when I want to. It’s called selective attention— I’ll choose when you can influence my life.

You’re losing control of me, Fear. Does that scare you?