When I was a little girl, my dad’s favorite evening pastime was to scare my sister and me. My sister loved it but oh how I hated it. My sister and I developed a sixth sense about it though. We could almost feel when he was hiding. My sister would slowly creep to the next doorway while giggling or being excitedly quiet the way only children can be. Sometimes if the game had gone on too long, she would jump out around each corner, while I would get so frozen in fear I would be plastered against a wall while my head frantically pivoted from side to side. She would be stifling her laughter while I was trying so hard not to cry. At times, I would hide so hopefully he’d give up out of boredom.
One evening I remember hiding for what seemed like hours. Out of sheer stubbornness, I suddenly decided I was too old to play this game. I was going to tell my dad I wasn’t doing this anymore. I walked out of my hiding place and went to find him. I just knew I was going to get scared, but I didn’t care. It would be worth it. I finally found my dad. Sleeping. I had spent the entire evening hiding for no reason.
Next, I went in search of my sister. I found her playing Barbies. I was so unbelievably jealous of her at that moment. (Okay, I was probably miffed and said something snotty and snarky to her.) Here I was, four years older than she, and I had been uncomfortably hiding out of fear while she was out having fun. Didn’t anyone know how scared I was? Didn’t anyone care how uncomfortable it was to hide there for so long?
I was so angry at her. I now know that I was jealous and was truly angry at myself. On more than one occasion, I remember wishing I was more like my sister. I wish I had enough guts to peek around the doorframe or boldly jump in front of whatever was around the next corner. It just wasn’t my nature though and I hated it. Even as a child, I was extremely pragmatic and strong-willed. That night as I stood there disheveled and sweaty, I remember thinking no more. I decided right then and there I would no longer hide. I would no longer waste an entire evening being too scared to move. I would boldly walk where I wanted and act like it never bothered me. I didn’t realize it then, but that stubbornness would serve me well over the years.
As a mom of a medically fragile child, I have learned not to stay plastered in one spot out of fear for what is around the next corner. Staying in one spot may seem like a safe place but life will catch up with you. Or even worse, life will go on around you whether you participate or not. When you stay hidden out of fear, you are the only one in that spot. No one knows you are there and no one knows how uncomfortable, sweaty, and cramped you are. What’s worse? No one can help you out of it.
I’d love to say that moment from my childhood taught me unyielding bravery in the face of fear. It didn’t. Even now as an adult I don’t watch scary movies. I also still sleep with the hall light on if I’m alone. I’ve tried to sleep alone in the dark, but I end up just lying there berating myself for being a chicken while jumping at every little sound. I’ve learned to turn on the light and laugh at myself. I may be a big chicken, but at least I’m a rested one.
I’m still not the person to jump around the next corner with enthusiasm. I am, however, the person to just keep moving no matter how scary the next doorway may turn out to be. I’m the person when faced with a known fear around the next corner, I simply pivot with my fists up and my shoulders back, ready to take on whatever comes at me, and that’s good enough for me.
I am the woman that refuses to stay plastered to the wall or stuck in hiding while life goes on without me, and for that, I am proud of myself.
So far, this life has had its fair shares of scary moments. I have been surprised to the point of tears many times. I have come to realize that if I stood still out of fear of what may be around the next corner, I would have missed so many amazing experiences. The beauty of today outweighs the unknown of tomorrow.