As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.— Marianne Williamson
Fear. You’ve felt it. We all have. That out of body, gut-wrenching, tension that overpowers your being. It can feel like you’ve been unwillingly catapulted off a cliff and are on the brink of death, when your lover mentions “that girl”. It can rule our lives. Without my knowledge or conscious consent, it has ruled mine.
I’ve been afraid for 27 years. A simple post on social media launches the familiar chorus: Do I look fit? Does my smile look attractive? Is this caption witty enough? Will people think I’m full of myself? Better to be safe. Delete. I’ve been afraid to praise people out of fear of rejection. I’ve avoided sharing my perspective for fear of judgement. My inner critic has had the phrase: Who do you think you are? as its ringtone since 2003. In some form, every day of my life, fear has rendered me immobile; whether it be stifling my voice or wearing a conventional, uninspired outfit.
Everything meaningful in my life has been born of love. The moments when I looked fear in the eyes and said not today. Not this. This is too important. Winston and I might not have gone on our first date if I had listened to fear. I texted my best friend saying “I want to live my life out of love” before reaching out to him. I wouldn’t work for my company if I had obeyed the familiar “play it safe” voice. I wouldn’t have flown to Sedona to do a breathwork ceremony or gone to a retreat that inspired me to deeply know myself. I wouldn’t have gone to therapy that saved my life and served as a catalyst to my awakening. Choices that are seemingly insignificant in the moment can change the trajectory of your life. And they can define it. Diving into the deep unknown has brought my greatest experiences and relationships into existence. And still, I don’t do it nearly enough.
I’m ready for a fear exorcism. I’m done with it. It no longer serves me. I know it will bubble up to the surface, and when it does, I will courageously step forward. My life is too important. And, when I forget, when I give into the fear, I will forgive myself and try again. I will remind myself: You are worth it. You have so much to give. You are doing the world a disservice by playing small; by not showing up. Let your spirit shine, you gahdamn divinely beautiful goddess creature.
Most of my life I’ve skated on the surface, without ever dipping below, because, well, it’s dark down there. You can’t always see in the darkness, and the unknown is terrifying. I thought, I’d rather play it safe up here because people like this image and life is easy. That’s bullshit. I wasn’t honoring my truth. The past few years I’ve begun to dip my toes into the cold, dark water. I’ve experienced overwhelming joy and what felt like unbearable pain. I’ve seen the potential for darkness within and I’m a more conscious, understanding human because of it. It is not easy. But, on the other side of pain is growth, resilience, and empowerment. I have a long road ahead. I hope you’ll join with curiosity, love, and support. If not, that’s your right. You do you, brother or sister. I wish you nothing but the best on your journey. I’m excited to see where the endless merging and diverging paths take us.
Love and boundless blessings,
*I’d like to clarify that I’m not planning to jump off bridges now because I all-of-the-sudden have no fear (unless, of course, I’m tied to a strong enough bungee, with a professional, and maybe someone else has gone first). I plan to honor my intuition and knowledge, while diving into the unknown. There is disregard for your stability and safety, and there is calculated risk. I’ll do my very best to stick to the latter.