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There’s this essential truth for writers that says that we need to write the thing that scares us the most. Whatever it is that is most uncomfortable or that we would rather turn away from is likely our most important subject matter.
When I filed for divorce a couple of years ago, the thing that scared me the most was being very real and raw about where I was in my life and what I wanted. It was difficult to write about the pain I had experienced and how it had begun to transform me. But it wouldn’t be the last time that I felt that sharp sense of discomfort about a topic. There was the time I fell in love with someone who ghosted me. Or the time I lost a job I loved through no fault of my own.
Deeply painful experiences were deeply painful to write about—and incredibly healing at the same time. I found that I was transformed by taking the things that scared me and breaking it down to black words on a white page. It was my own special alchemy—transforming struggle into ecstatic beauty and sending it out into the world like an incantation. It rarely felt beautiful at the time. It felt like I was writing with the blood flowing from my open wounds. I did this, again and again, until the thing that scared me lost its power to mortally wound me.
I think we need to take a close look at the things that scare us. Of course, I don’t mean this about those fears that are truly survival instincts. You’ll not see me getting up close and personal with a spider or sitting down for a chat with anything creepy and crawly. But I think there are certain things in our lives that intimidate us because they are daunting and unfamiliar, and offer a challenge we’re not sure we’re ready to face.
Recently, I uncovered a desire in myself to run a half-marathon. I’ve spent the last couple of years running 5k races and various fun runs, and I’ve enjoyed them. I’ve even found my times improving. But I keep looking at the longer races and truly wanting to do them. At the same time, it scares the hell out of me to think of running anything longer than three miles at a time.
Every time I ask marathon runners how they did it, they all tell me the same thing. Just choose one and sign up. Then train for it, adding a little at a time until you’re able to do the full number of miles. I’ve always balked at the idea of signing up for something that seems so incredibly overwhelming…until now.
I lived on auto-pilot for too long. I followed all the rules and did what I thought I was supposed to be doing. I wasn’t unhappy all of that time, but I sure wasn’t overflowing with joy either. I stayed safe and made safe choices, and I avoided the things that I feared—or told myself I would address those fears later. I look back at those years and wonder how I could possibly have thought that keeping myself safe in this way would ever make me happy.
There’s a line in the song “Take on Me” by A-ha that says, “it’s no better to be safe than sorry”, and every time I heard the song, I kept hearing those words long after the last notes faded. It was only when I actually began taking scary risks that I was transformed.
Filing for divorce with young children at home was terrifying, and yet I was able to successfully manage that transition and go on to peacefully co-parent while having the life I had dreamed of living. Leaving a steady job to write was intimidating, and yet when I let go of the sense of security, I found, instead, untapped creative potential and three full literary manuscripts written in less than a year.
When we make bold choices that echo the desires of our hearts, the universe rewards us. It doesn’t always feel that way. Sometimes we think we’re just the victims of one random thing going wrong after another. One thing doesn’t work out, and we feel like giving up.
But I look back in the last year and feel that the Universe gave me the struggles I needed at the time so that I could grow and be ready for the next challenge. Instead of feeling like I was given arbitrary obstacles for the joy of watching me struggle, I feel like life strategically placed me in positions where I could access opportunities if I was ready for them and paying attention. I wonder how much we miss out on when we allow ourselves to sit with our fear and intimidation or when we deny them altogether, rather than moving forward and taking the risk.
We’re not meant to stay safe in our little boxes, only experiencing comfort and familiarity. We’re built to withstand the full range of thoughts and emotions. Even when it’s terrifying and overwhelming, we are so much more resilient and capable than we know. And we cannot know just how much beautiful potential we have until we look our fears in the face and still take a step closer.
We cannot know just how strong and brave and brilliant we can be until we decide to take the risks to achieve all of our dreams. We might fall, but we’ll never fail so long as we try. But we’ll never, ever try if we don’t first confront those fears and move through them.
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This post was originally published on medium.com, and is republished here with the author’s permission.
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Photo credit: Getty Images



I really liked the article and the part ” I stayed safe and made safe choices, and I avoided the things that I feared” I find the only time I really felt happy in my life is when I took strides forward, facing what I feared. I wish I had never stopped, only recently have I started moving once again.
I won’t lie I wish I had done this when I was in my 20’s, but my 30’s might as well be a blast.