My good friends will say that fear is False Evidence Appearing Real..but my truest and closest friends know that I call it the F* Everything And Run.
Not very mature, I know.
That’s the challenge of being genuine. Sometimes I’m not very mature. Sometimes I suit up, make up and suck it up to be appear more ready than I am. But, ready for what? Frankly, I’m not that important. No one sits around and discusses Kemetia as much as the stupid tape reel in my head does!
What I do know is that when I share where I really am…who I am on a daily basis [sneakers, baseball cap, jeans, tshirt] my ability to connect with my peers and have a true interaction is there. When I tell someone that I’m still learning and growing and my teenager overhears the conversation, she knows it’s okay to not have all the answers.
I was raised in a household where a person’s value was equated to how many chores they completed, how much money they contributed to the finances of the household and how much shame or honor they brought from outside sources to the family name.
To this day, I still struggle with my value as a wife, daughter, sister and mother. If I relax, then I’m not contributing. If I don’t make it to a goal, then I’m an embarrassment or failure. These absolute definitions allow no wiggle room for adjustment and to the panicky feeling of of fear (I must F* everything and run) Run, as in run away and never try again.
Of course, this is all in my noggin. I know better and growing older, living life on life’s terms has helped me come to realize that everyone experiences fear in some context of their life. They just might not experience it with my *definition* and that’s okay.
Each and every time I do something that is frightening or new or challenging, I am looking at FEAR and saying, “Hey! I see you over there in the corner trying to intimidate me and I’m gonna do my thing anyway. Later, dude!”
And by doing that, I just might be growing out of my sassy definition of fear.