I don't make a habit of posting my personal life on social media. I like to keep them separated because once you blur those lines, things get messy. In fact, it's actually a fear of mine to show the more emotional side of myself to people I don't know all too well. I hate the vulnerability that inevitably comes with allowing others to know your "deep dark secrets."
So why am I posting this today? And more importantly, why should you care about what a 24 yr old someone from somewhere has to say?
It all comes down to fear.
This past weekend, I faced a fear of mine. If you know me, you probably won't be surprised by the overwhelmingly long list of things I am afraid of. Some are interpersonal, some are common, and some are just plain irrational. But I put myself to the test this weekend, and I have never felt more powerful.
I am terrified of planes. If you gave me five minutes, I could probably name 25 different ways I could die on a plane. I went on a couple trips when I was younger, and I don't remember feeling frightened at all. In fact, I remember feeling exhilarated. Which means somehow over the last ten years, I developed this gut wrenching fear that the ONE plane I happen to board is going to burn down in flames.
I had a close friend of mine get married this weekend, and I love my car but there's no way I was going to make it out of the state of TN, much less across a few state lines. So my only legitimate option was to fly.
I arrived at the airport, almost in tears, boarded the plane and prepared for take off. I don't know how my heart put up with such a high amount of adrenaline. My brain was literally preparing me for death.
If I could recognize one pattern in my list of fears, it's that in most of them, I lack control in the situation. Ah, yes. I struggle deeply in situations where I do not feel I have any control. And what better example than a plane: flown by someone I do not know, made of materials I could not name, staying afloat with physics I would laugh at someone for trying to explain to me, and about who knows how far from the ground.
During take off, I told myself that I had no control. At this point, I'm either going to die (my brain was plenty prepared for all of the ways that could happen), or I was going to live. Either way, I had no control now.
And unsurprisingly to most of you, I lived.
Not only did I live, but after about twenty minutes of surviving in the air, I calmed down enough to take in the beauty of what was around me. And damn, I thought the sky was gorgeous from down here... it's breathtaking from up there.
Now don't get me wrong, I didn't conquer my fear. I had to take four flights round trip to get there and on each one I was a scattered, antsy mess. I don't think I'll ever get over it. But the immense feeling of power that engulfed me, the appreciation for life that swept through me after I survived a situation that probably won't ever happen, that is what I want to live for.
Which brings me to today. I have chosen to face another fear: public vulnerability. While it's not life threatening, it's equally as intimidating.
Today, 18 years ago, my mom died. I was only six years old.
The root of my fear of sharing this personal information comes with thinking that people will say that it shouldn't be a big deal, that I've spent longer in my life without her, that I'm posting this for attention. And I wish that was true, I wish that her death was a small memory in the back of my mind. But it's not.
They say grief gets easier when you get older. They say feelings fade, memories alter, more important things and people take precedence over who you lost. But every year I understand more and more of what she could have been to me. I understand the conversations we could have had, the fights we could have gotten in, the clothes I could have taken from her, the embarrassing things she could have done, the embraces we could have shared, all the moments - good and bad - that I don't get to share with her. Instead, I have things: a rare picture of us as a family, a notebook she wrote in for English class, the hospital bracelet she wore while she was giving birth to me, a love letter she wrote my dad when they were still in love, things that I want to ask why she kept and what they meant to her, but can't.
So today, I am letting myself be vulnerable because no matter what anyone else thinks, she means something to me, and she deserves to be remembered.
Fear is inevitable. You're going to be frightened of things your whole life. If you say you're not scared of anything, I challenge you to dig deeper. Are you scared of eating alone at a restaurant? I am. Frightened of deep waters? Mark me down for that one. Are you uncomfortable with saying I love you? I am too. Fear is healthy, it's what keeps us alive. Just don't let it consume your life.
Take the control back.
Mom, I miss you. I know you're looking down on me and I hope that there's a smile on your face ❤️