Fear Itself

I've come to realize how so much of my life has been circumscribed by fear; of people, of loss, of consequences (intended or otherwise). How that fear has quietly and silently shaped what I've done or not done, and how it has hung over my life, forever clouding my ability to see hope on the horizon.

What I would have given to be fearless, to worry not about whether I would be accepted, or loved, or appreciated. To have derived solace and pleasure and gratitude from simply doing and saying the things I've wanted, rather than what was expected or proper.

What a vastly different, vastly more invigorating life this could have been, even with the potential for failure. Because lord knows playing it safe still brought pain and shame, heartbreak and loss, poverty and want. I've always played it safe, praising stability and the quiet rigor of order, gaslighting myself into accepting these limits.

I have to wonder now, though, whether it's too late to unburden myself of the sum of these fears, and if becoming who I should have been after having been who I am will really make a difference.