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Forgetting Fear
Ever since I could remember, I have always been surrounded by animals. My mother was a veterinarian technician, and I would always accompany her to the animal hospital and watch as she cared and tended for the animals. My mother mostly worked the night shifts, and every night when it was my bedtime, she would set out a makeshift bed where the reptiles were and I would lull myself to sleep watching them move around in their cages. And that was how I fell in love with the unusual walks of life. The evidence of this is clearly seen in a photo of my six-year-old self, holding a five foot snake (a Red Tail Boa to be more specific), at a country fair in New Jersey. My mother tells me that the man who owned the snake was very proud of me for running up to him and asking if I may hold the reptile. My mother and the man both called me brave when I did so, and at the time I did not understand why holding an animal could be considered brave; I was more worried about harming its delicate scales or dropping it; the dismay that it could ever do any sort of impairment to me, simply did not exist in my mind. But apparently, it did exist in the mind of others- specifically adults. I can commemorate a group of adults looking at me with consternation, and after I had wistfully given the snake back, the snake-man turned to the group of adults and asked if they would also like to hold the creature, based off of their stares. I was incredibly shocked when they declined his offer due to the fact they “do not like snakes” and “ rather observe from a safe distance”. In my six-year-old mind, such an action was foolish, and I could not understand why a person would not want to hold it. But look at its scales! I thought, See how it wraps tightly around you for support? It is as if it was giving you a hug! It was not until later in my life, did I realize that these outlandish adults actually had a fear of snakes, and that such a fear was common. After I had grasped that knowledge, I clasped onto another one that it was mostly adults who had these comical fears. For fear is not something a person is born with, it is something they achieve.
Children are born without fear for obvious reasons: they have no experience. To them, the world is a large and grand place that is filled with nothing but light, and shadows do not exist because there are no obstacles to cast one. For example, if a person was to ask a child what they wanted to be when they grow-up, they will receive whimsical answers that range from teacher to astronaut. If you then ask them what challenges they will face, the asker will receive answers such as “none!” or “choosing only one job!”. Now, if the same questions were repeated to a group of adults, some of the career choices may still be the same, maybe a little more “practical” in some areas- but the challenges will have unquestionably changed; the asker will now receive answers such as: “student loans and money”, “finding a job” and “not disappointing my entire family with my life choices at Christmas dinner”. Things from a child’s point-of-view that are wondrous and exciting and new, begins to gain traces of worry and dread the more a person grows up.
But it is not just major parts of life that this happens to- it is everything. I remember when I boarded a plane and the monotonous thought of fear that penetrated my head was Look how high we are! If we crash I shall surely die!, but when I was a child who had no fear, all I could think of was that not even the birds have flown this high. I now think of how I will survive after college with my art degree, if I will prosper or fail in this field- but as a child all I could think of is what I will create with my hands. Animals were miraculous creatures in their varying shape and form; I used to walk up to a beast that was three times my size and touch it without worrying of pain, but if I see the same beast I wonder not at its beauty but at its potential to harm.
As I have grown, my thoughts became more sober, void of the drunk spirits of artistry I had as a child. The fault belonging to having to face real problems and obstacles as I grew. I did not know pain and doubt as a child, and nor should I have. Problems were left to my mother, who solved each one swiftly and carried on once it was done. But I did not know of her struggle with money, I did not know that the bills might not be paid, I did not know the fear of being homeless or struggling for food. And it was with these new discoveries did I also discover what terror actually was.
I long to go back to the days where cowardice fear was as fictional as the lion in the Wizard of Oz. I once pitied him, for being afraid of every little thing seemed far more exhausting than anything else. But I have come to find myself being afraid of things exactly like he was during some points of my life; and I have learned that sometimes it is necessary.
It is preposterous to walk down life without any sort of fear, for fear is what helps keep us in check. Without fear I would be reckless and uncaring. I would turn my life to shambles with my naive ways, not paying attention to anything at all. Fear is a sense of rationalism, helping us be adults in its own ferocious way. For if I did not have the dread of being broke, I would spend all my money in a day and wonder in confusion why I was sleeping cold.
I understand why I have fear, and I know why I need it- but I simply do not wish to have it.
Fear to me is a dominator; it controls what I do and how I live. Without fear I could do my schoolwork without having the anxiety of failing my classes breathing down my neck. Without fear I could say how I feel to a crowd of strangers and my family and not worry about rejection. Fear has prevented me from bungee jumping, speaking out, petting animals, and doing all the things I wanted to do.
I have fear, but I do not want it.
My urge to not have this feeling was so strong that I decided I would put an end to it. It was my emotion after all, I deserve control over it. So that is what I did. I vowed to have no fear, I promised myself that horror would not be my silencer, and I pledged that I would not be controlled by an emotion.
I turned the dominator into the dominated.
It was a difficult process, trying to get rid of a feeling, and I am still working on it, but I have improved.
Over the summer I had the absolute luxury of going to Europe, and I made sure I tackled every opportunity that came my way. My fear of heights were diminished when I zip-lined 140 meters up in the air in The Alps, I tried new foods, a man demanded me for money and I did not crumble where I normally would, and I got pinched by strangers trying to tie strings on my wrists- but I kept going. But the most important thing I conquered was my fear of the future. It was during my travels did I realize that the world is so, so immense and I was chaining myself to minuscule obstacles that I only made broader in my head. This fearless life I tried so desperately to live was wonderful and I felt like I could accomplish anything.
I thought I would just have to come to acceptance of living a life of anxiety, but I was not satisfied with that. Just because I knew of the world’s problems did not mean I would have to succumb to them. I adore my child-self who looked at everything with awe, and I wish I could be her again. But I cannot, but nor do I take this negatively. I am growing, and I am not anywhere near finished, but that does not mean I have to keep my younger self away. I am going to bring her along through my challenges, she will help keep me fearless.
Growing, I realized, does mean learning of fear, but it does not mean being of fear. It means learning how to defeat monsters that come your way. I did not have to give up the fearless child that I once was, I only did so because to me, growing up meant becoming an adult and letting go of the childish things. Never have I been more wrong.
The girl in the photograph is smiling, fear a word that does not exist in her vocabulary. Before I thought there were significant changes between the two of us, but now I realize that she is the same, I am just older, wiser and more experienced. I once believed that I no longer could be that same fearless girl, but I can. And I will bring along her child awe and fascination as I continue to grow. Fear, I have learned, does not have to be a trait of mine. And it no longer is.
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