Dear Fear,
We have been friends for a long time, at least, I thought we were friends. As I
grew older, with experiences, craving the same ideas I have had since a child, I noticed
a pattern in your behavior. Whenever I aspire to accomplish anything, that is when you
show up with a list of filth that could go wrong. I noticed you have never offered anything
that could go right. Though some of your theories present themselves to be potentially
correct, there were some outcomes I have enjoyed that proved wrong. At first, you
blamed my environment and family. Although I agree I grew up in a city with a high
volume of crime, struggled with my family, and with scarce resources available to my
neighborhood you bonded to my bones like the frigid cold whenever I had thoughts of
becoming anything.
Disguising yourself as a form of protection, I discovered that you never had any
intentions of me facing anything. Do you remember that field trip in the second grade?
We went to a professional Theatre in a nearby neighborhood called the Karamu House.
There, we were in awe of a play we had seen, and that is when I felt that special feeling
for the very first time. It is not a word, it’s a sentence… You remember that feeling, don’t
you? The feeling that I can do it, too. You shifted all focus from me, shoving the
thoughts and ideas of others in my brain. Ignoring my strengths, maximizing my
weaknesses. I would spend most of my years taking your advice, when you had your
way, that’s when you left me alone most. You fueled everything negative in my life with
anxiety. I didn’t think I could pass the eighth grade, but I did. I didn’t think I would
graduate from the Fire Academy, but I did!

Instead of looking at things for what they are, you concentrate on the long
shadow the task casts. I know the craft took time to learn and studying and repetition
are utilized to be able to excel at some point, but you didn’t include all that. You
welcomed more problems. I do not wish to concentrate on those things anymore.
They’re getting in the way of me being efficient and trustworthy. It was to my surprise to
learn that the great Halle Berry, Bill Cobbs, and few others began their artistic journey at
the Karamu House honing their craft to become the amazing artists they are today!
Then, there came that feeling. It begins in your heart, fills it up with stars burning from
the inside out sending a sensation that takes you off the ground, and here you come
with all your gravity. As I grew taller, a bit wider, I noticed that you hadn’t changed, still
obese with old methods and ways of thinking became too heavy to carry around. You
showed up in areas in my lower back, poking me in my temple, burdening the back of
my neck. In some cases, you left me with no choice but to try, I needed to create more
space to breathe.
I took a chance and signed up for a few classes during college; there, I scored
my first play! You were there with me, too. I noticed your hypotheticals changed, but not
your thinking. Your list did not include what I could or couldn’t do; it involved if I would be
able to apply the techniques I’ve been taught. That revealed to me you noticed
something different about me, that I’m further from where we started. I met someone
new in those times of doubt and worry as I waited for my cues in the wing backstage.
Someone named Faith cheered everyone on, massaging the areas you made sore,
preparing me to go out and do the best I could. With faith, I don’t have to think so much
and with you, I would like to become acquaintances now to limit how much energy you
drain from me. I feel like you are necessary when I must cross the street or walk at
night. I have had the pleasure of working and meeting some great people in the
community, and developed into a fine artist, still learning to become better. I am thankful
for the opportunities I have been able to explore, one of them being in not one but two
productions held there, the place where it all began, the Karamu House. It was difficult
writing this letter, considering how you think, and I believe there are times you want the
best for me, but you lack being aware of keeping the best from me. You understand all
of it too well.

Sorry,

Dear Fear,

Hello. It is nice that we meet, finally. We can thank me for that. Although we have been neighbors all these years, all I know is that you merely exist. Therefore, I admit, I have avoided the thoughts of what you consist. There was even a conversation had with my imagination. I ordered that there be no paintings of you in my mind. If I was to erase every aspect, then every glimpse would need to be deteriorated, as if history did not bother to include you. However, deep down, I knew the life of you still wandered through me. I also knew eventually we would gaze upon each other similar to a child seeking the stars of the night. Hi Fear, how are you.?

Each day I go through the motions
Fear of abandonment
Fear of rejection
Fear of slipping into depression
Here I am—
Fearful of anything refraining me from existential satisfaction

I am but an organism
A display of God’s creation
Making choices
Turning left, turning right
Made a mistake
Mmm maybe that’s not quite right
I fear I’ll never learn the way

A glimpse of insecurity
Then doubts creep in
Losing my mind
Forsaking my sanity
Now I’m wrapped waiting until a spider devours me
Lack of mental discipline has stricken
A simple insect, a simple human
I used to feel whole
Now I fear what started in my mind
will continue poisoning my soul

I eat, I eat again
Body skinny, fat, healthy, weak
Hhhh I breathe
I could be lazy and limp
Or even exercising daily
But to no avail
With whichever I choose
My body is here or moves there
I fear I have no excuse

Laughter with a friend meaningless
Life with or life without sun
Mom & dad, sister, brother
Who have I become
I fear I’ll never figure it out

A janitor working hard, humbly
An accountant sitting back idly
Which career am I supposed to have?
Money, potential greed
I fear the green will never be enough to succeed

Needing the validation
The ability to express our person
I do this, I wear that
Aren’t I such a trendsetter
Do you see my purse
Do you like my hat
I fear we’re all just carbon copies

I see the sky, it’s blue
Something bad happens, I feel blue
The grass feels fresh under my fingers
So does everybody I come into contact
But at the same time nothing feels new
I fear I’ve lost the privilege of my senses

Yearning to fulfill a life fulfilled
Enacting as my authentic self
I fear to live a life mundane
To be but a body & a given name
I have reached the boredom
I’m fearful of living a life so plain
Take away the fulfillment or lack thereof
Everything in between is what’s to blame

Or is it?

I won’t fear that every day is the same
That I’m stuck in the repetitive cycle we call rat race
I’ll relinquish doubt & follow my passions
I’ll learn to smile everyday I wake
That much I can manage
Learn to be thankful for the connections that come my way
Cherish my breath
Say hi to a neighbor
Thank my God & pray
Dance like no one is watching
Dance like everyone is
Work on myself & that which I cannot face
I’ll thank the animals that have been slayed
To provide me a meal so I can live another day

Away with you fear
I’m in control
I will prevail
For I am standing
In all my strength & demanding

Away with you fear
Suffocating negative thoughts
It’s time I start being mindful
A new practice I’m planting

Style score: 68%

God is great, fear is a liar, Grace wins.

At first it won’t make sense.
I overthink so much until I make myself sick—

I often think about all the what ifs and all the coulda shoulda beens

Playing images in my mind that break me down to the core…

The images that bring out the waterworks & leave your eyes sore.

The kind that have u grieving over something that may or may not be yours…

Now you’re left with this weight on your chest & a knot in your throat

The tears streaming down your face, re-living the pain

—over — and over
— and over again…

I beat myself up not knowing wether I’ve done what’s right or wrong

Too afraid to repeat past patterns
Too afraid to throw myself back into the fire
Too afraid of the damage that can still be done after already going thru so much pain & sorrow.

I remember what happened the last time.
& the time before that & I can’t help but think—

What if it happens again
—God
I don’t know if I can handle it.

They say old keys don’t open new doors .
They also say leave old shit in the past .

Each situation is its own.

What if what failed back then, works for me now?

People wonder why I’m such an over-thinker
I hope you can see for yourself-how

Look at what I just said—
—Shits always contradicting & confusing

It’s all a case by case basis
—and none of us have the recipe for each situation

All I know to be true — is you God

But I can’t always see you.
— and at times I struggle to feel or hear you…

So I pray & pray.
Hoping you’ll hear me say.
I need you.

I need you now as much as I did back then —

I need to hear you loud & clear again .

Like that day in my bedroom.

You gave me a quick glimpse at my future but it quickly escaped to

All a sudden I received a message but I don’t know where it came from?

It said to me…

Do you really think that laying something down at his feet —

Reaching out to him daily.

Choosing not to move-until you receive clarity.

Trying to let him take the lead…Will somehow cause you to lose something?—

To lose something thats destined for you ?…

Absolutely not. On the contrary.

He will bless you for your obedience.
For you guarding your heart.

For you refusing to accept-less than what is right
— and not giving in to what is not .

— and I know it will hurt to hear this but if it’s lost— it wasn’t yours to keep to begin with.

I know it’s hard to be still but don’t stress it.

Gods got this.
He knows best not only where u are but where you are going.

— God is great, fear is a liar, & grace wins.

One day you will see you are not alone & you have never been…

Dear Unknown,

I want to punch you in the face, but also…hug you. Every time it’s time to make a decision, big or small, there you are lurking, making me doubt myself. I damn near spiral out of control with all the versions of what if…? that crowd my mind.

I hate you for making me nervous to do things to the point of procrastination. Those aren’t cute, dainty butterflies fluttering in my stomach, they’re bats. Wreaking havoc on my nervous system, making my heart race, and giving me cottonmouth.

But you know what? I also love you. You are a huge a motivator. There’s nothing like the adrenaline rush that comes with not knowing for sure what an outcome will be. Success is sweeter when tinged with uncertainty after embarking on a new challenge. Like

What if I fail? Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?

Okay, I’m gonna do it.

I’m going to move to a new city.

I’m gonna apply to that graduate program.

I’m gonna ask out that cute guy I’ve been crushing on for months.

I’m gonna buy that bright red shade of lipstick.

I’m gonna start that blog.

I’m gonna get that haircut.

I’m gonna book that solo trip.

I’m gonna enter that writing contest.

I’m gonna ask for help.

I’m gonna put an offer on that apartment.

I’m gonna apply for that senior position.

I’m gonna try that new restaurant.

I’m gonna buy that lottery ticket.

The only thing I can do is try. Try my best and hope for the best. Whatever happens, happens. I hope things go according to plan, but if not, I’ll pivot. I’ll deal with whatever greets me on the other side. At least I tried. At least you didn’t stop me. This I know for sure.

Sincerely,

Sherring

 sytle score: 80

My dear fear,
It’s funny, isn’t it, that most everywhere I turn I’m told I should feel you…towards you? Fear fear. Do not let fear in. Do not allow fear to become complacent, to overstay its welcome, to know you too closely. But you and I have been close for as long as I can remember now. You’ve been around since the beginning. I’ve not really known a home without you. You and I, we’re familiar. Without a doubt, through the highs and the lows, I feel fear near. My dear fear.
It’s also funny to say-I fear letting you go. You see, I have a thing about attachment. Once we’re familiar, god, I can’t ever truly let you go. You’re a part of me. You help shape who I’m growing to be, who I’ve been. Now, I’ve got to be honest-that part of us hasn’t always felt good. There have been times-okay, years-where identifying with you has felt…stifling. I let you hold me back from so much. I still carry the grief of betraying myself again and again in the name of honoring you above all else. At the time, we didn’t know any better. We convinced ourselves that moving away from the world as one was the best way forward. Possibly the safest way forward. Definitely the most isolating way forward. I was so convinced that your path was my path. You had that kind of power over me. I gave you that kind of power over me. Ironically, I was so fearful to make decisions that opposed you I handed you the reins and then resented you for it. For that, my dear fear, I am sorry.
We’ve come a long way, you and I. I’m no longer the fearful child stifling themselves, too fearful to be uncomfortable in the unfamiliar, instead choosing discomfort in the same old patterns, in all I’ve ever known. No longer am I strangling my own voice simply because you spoke up first. No longer are we grasping at each other so tightly that there is no room for anyone or anything else in my heart. No, we’re not like that anymore. Now, I look to you for collaboration. Now you respect my need to disagree. We guide each other now, you and I. We walk side by side. I feel you close, and I know I ought to delve deeper into what you’re reacting to. Now I know you’re often pointing me to a challenge, prompting me to defy you. All you ask is that I acknowledge you’re with me. And with that, your nearness brings a rush, a surge of vitality as I venture into newness. You say ‘Fear is here. Act despite. I do not wish to hold you back. I only wish to keep you safe. So long as we can find ourselves again on the other side, do it. Yes, fear is here. But do it. Do it with me. Let’s do it together. Do it because I’m here. Do it despite. ’ And for that, my dear fear-I thank you.
With warm reverence,
Esmeralda
style score: 100%

Dear Fear,
it’s been a long time since I’ve acknowledged you.
Like a shadow, I can’t escape, lingering. I forget that you’re not me, but when you speak, you can so be mean.
Don’t hide what makes you different. Too much attention in the past meant judgement, but Now embracing all our quirks, flaws, unique perspectives, and expression inspires others to be themselves, too. Vulnerability is your greatest strength and is what helps create the connection we crave.
You’re comfortable with the familiar even when it doesn’t feel good, but like a plant without the Sun, my Soul is dying. To not experience the unknown is to not know the magic or to grow. We are made to change!
Negatively, predicting the future doesn’t prevent the hurt from happening; if we close off from the experiences in the end, we stay numb.
Let go of the outcome, experiment, and see if we enjoy the process.
Life can be overwhelming, make a contingency plan. IF the worse happens, we can choose a new direction.
Take risks, make a mess, give it our best shot.
I love you always, no matter what. Be in the moment.
Vanessa, Permission Slip

Style Score 100%

Hello, Fear.

You have been a confidante, comrade, and companion for as long as I can remember. You started small when I was little and made me worry about monsters in the closet and horror movie villains coming to haunt me.

And as I grew older, you expanded and evolved, replacing the scary characters by becoming the primary source of my torment.

You held me down when I was lonely and validated my doubts. The resounding boom of your voice became so second nature that I conflated your opinions with the truth and believed your perspectives were my own.

And I cared so much about you that I never stopped to consider whether you cared for me, too.

You’ve taken on many forms. And I’ve gotten to know them all well.

In most everything, you’re the fear of failure—the crippling knots each time I’m called to perform. You’re the perfectionism that won’t accept a less than stellar outcome, no matter the arena.

In relationships, you’re the fear of abandonment—the unsettled sense that started with my father and picked up in personal connections, perpetually whispering, “You’re not worthy.”

In social settings, you’re the fear of attack—the mounting anxiety in my chest when I’m in mixed company, which is especially acute if alcohol is involved. You’re the anticipatory retreat that must stay nearby in case a stranger or phony friend calls me out of my name. And the nagging hyperawareness that makes me watch my back when I’m in unknown places, which can quickly become unsafe spaces.

In the classroom and the corporate world, you’re the fear of exposure—the entrenched feelings of being a fraud. You’ve created defensiveness and a sense of inferiority that’s hidden between my shoulders, weighing me down despite degrees, successes, and obvious evidence of my intellect.

Most recently, you’re the fear of success.

Amidst this transformation, there’s promise and potential, bright skies and open doors. There are opportunities and options and my version of success. And others have affirmed me in powerful and profound ways. I’ve found my voice and spoken up, without concern for your perpetual instruction to “hurry” and speak faster.
As scary as it is, I’m dreaming again, and your shout seems less powerful.

Thank you for the companionship you’ve offered. For the feedback you’ve so willingly provided. For the doubts you introduced. Thank you for being as familiar as a close friend, as comfortable as a life partner, and as present as a parent.

Thank you for the challenges you made seem insurmountable. For the suffocating environments you encouraged me to endure. For the terrible relationships you told me to hold on to. For the instincts you told me to ignore. And for the leaps you kept me from believing I should take.

But, most of all, thank you for understanding why I’m leaving you now.

And good luck to you. I hope you find someone else who believes your lies, wants your weight, and will give you their dreams.

You see, Fear. I’ve met a new friend called Faith. And embracing our potential requires me to release you.

So, this is goodbye.

With no regrets,
Malaika

SS: 88

How do I write a letter to my fear when I fear everything? I’m not sure when I became this way. I used to be so untamed, but now I’m scared of living life. I miss the person I was—the fearless one, except for when it came to roller coasters and snakes. How can I find her again? She seems so far away now, but I remember her clearly. She didn’t just stare out the window dreaming of a bigger world; she lived it. When she encountered something new, she didn’t panic; she embraced it. She turned the unknown into something familiar, living a story she loved to tell. An old friend once asked me how New York was. The truth is, I never made it there. My mind doesn’t play fair. I dream too big for my brain to handle, and instead of confronting the fear, I’ve always backpedaled.

To my Captor,

I trust this letter reaches you.

It has been some time since the pleasure of your correspondence has graced my escritoire. Keep attuned to what I have to say, as this will be the last time your eyes drift along my penned confessions.

I often catch my thoughts drifting toward you. Toward what we had. I must admit, it was raw passion and magnetism.
It was also agony.
It was a maelstrom.

Your sworn oath of safety, wisdom, and comfort was so zealously expressed.
It escorted me from the unknown into a place of perceived refuge.
I delighted in that place.
In you.
Each room offered precisely what was promised.
Yet, with each passing day that I spent with you there, the color dimmed, the foundation cracked, and your essence was brought to light.
Piece by piece, you stripped away the shimmering lie you vowed and revealed its sinister nature.

Do you understand what I am telling you?
Do you hear me?
You viper.
You charlatan!
In the moonlight, you parade yourself as wisdom; a mighty shield with undying allegiance.
You parade yourself as safety; promising to keep me concealed in your gardens.
Yet, when the gilded halo of day touches its tendrils to your visage – scales and ash are what glint back at me.

How can this be?
Are you not honorable, lovely, and valiant?
As truth and perception war within me, the collision of crumbling stone and splintering rafters envelops my senses. Your estate is falling, and I am gifted sight.
You are duplicitous.
You are folly.
You are chains.
How could I have let myself become seduced?

Oh, but I forget.
You began as enchantment itself.
Wooing me with silver-soaked promenades in the cool of the night, I toss caution to the wind.
The gentle swish of your foot along the grass compels me to follow you.
Through labyrinths of opalescent beams you pull me.
Your gold-flecked skin captures their light in a thousand glittering facets.
Casting your gaze back at me, your sirenic melodies slink from your sterling tongue, kissing my ears as they advance toward my heart.
Sailing around it in ever-tightening coils, they transform what once was vibrant and hopeful into rot and despair.

Your lilting refrain conveys how deeply you comprehend my innermost workings.
You cement how, even in their simplest form, my workings remain unfathomable to my companions.
Isolation and imprisonment are your mission.

For a moment, you succeed.
Your promise to keep me safely hidden hastily turns to a threat of restraint.
Betwixt your vines, my wrists cry out as emerald helices constrict and tether.
It is there you force me to gaze upon that which I might become.
As its resplendence passes before me, I call out, yet my throat withers with the absence of sound.
You strip me of autonomy.
You cage me from transcendence.
I am left bare, shamed, and quaking.

It is then that you desert me.
As consolation, you send your aide-de-camp, Regret, to pillage the ruin.
He is not alluring, like you.
No.
He is grotesque, pestering, and omnipresent.
He emerges as skittering vermin.
Yet as he feasts upon my consideration, a ravenous hyena his form so takes.
Pacing, he bides his time until he devours.

It is in that darkest hour that the faintest glow alights: a truth from a bosom confidant.
“You are not where he claims you are.” she whispers.
“Look, and see with your vision anew.
These bars are but tinder, your fetters but straw!”
‘Hope’ are the flints that strike.
The kindling ignites with the subsequent spark of fervor.
The roar of resurgence is now the inferno that fuels my reclamation.

No longer does your vice grip restrain me.
Your coils incinerate.
Your shackles combust.
Your chains fall in riotous cacophony, and l rise from your embered tyranny.

“How can this be?” you ask.
I have held assembly with my council.
I have sung my song of trepidation, naming you who ensnares me.
Unanimously, your ruling is reached; your retreat bears witness, sealing your fate.
The beacons are lit.
The alarm is sounding.

With haste my council unsheathes their swords.
Hilts accost shields as voices crescendo in guttural cries.
Armored and vigilant, my people rally.
Forefront she stands: the monarch I am driven to be.
We will ride to your borders.
We will summon you by name.

We will annihilate your lies and rebuild fortifying truths.
Augmented boundaries will be established.
Discernment will be my vanguards; lionheartedness, my ramparts.

Your deceit will not endure to plague another.
Your falsities have breathed their last.
You will be vanquished once and for all, and I will go forth in glory.

Yours no longer,
The Victorious

(83% Style Score)

Dear Fear,

I recently learned a life hack: if you have an unruly rooster, incarnated from the pit fires of hell, that pecks and bites, that won’t shut up, and is impossible to tame, there is hope. Catch the demon rooster, swaddle him in a towel, and hold him like a newborn baby. That’s it. Doing this lets that pecker know the pecking order, training him to be less of a hostile nuisance. It’s that easy; at least that’s what the person on TikTok said.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: we don’t have chickens. And you would know because you’ve been waking me up like a crowing devil for decades now. Your alarms ringing inside my head, shaking in my chest, tightening my gut, screaming, wake up! The world is on fire, and you have no control over the rain! You strut around, screeching out the most insecure questions in my voice: Why did I say that? What if they think I’m stupid? What if I’m a horrible writer and no one ever publishes me? What if I die alone? To which you reply, “All valid and rational points. Let’s keep ruminating on them to help you stay alive. That’s why I’m here. You need me.” To which I reply, “Do I though?”

Despite our enmeshed existence, I have been doing everything I can to outrun you for those same long decades, resulting in consistent soul-crushing failures. Again, you would know. You follow each one with more damn questions. Why can’t I just escape my patterns? When do I get my cozy cabin in the woods? Why am I forty-six and feel like I have accomplished nothing of significance? And you insist every circumstance is or will be the worst of the worst, and no matter what I do, there is no getting rid of you. I’ve tried to cut off your head with medications, affirmations, therapy, but you just come back to life with twice the hellfire. I’ll admit one thing: you’re dependable, but so are death and indigestion, neither of which I want to experience at the moment.

So, let’s try something new and ask a different question. What if I stop running from you? The first thing the chicken influencer said to do is to catch the rooster—dominate it with kindness. Apparently, roosters could win gold medals for their evasive maneuvers, and you could too. In fact, I learned how to outrun my pain from your example, but I also learned that trying to do so was as delusional as thinking I’d eventually be able to sprout wings and fly away—a revelation that led to this reckoning.

I get it. You want to protect me. But at what cost? Living like a rooster locked in chronic defense mode, hypervigilant to possible attack or getting into a cockfight when we come fear to fear with someone, is exhausting. I’m done letting you get the best of me and wanted to let you know that if you feel different, there’s a reason. During a recent sunset, my sudden awe settled the dust from all my restless longing to be rid of you, and I could see a choice: go on kicking up dust or sit still. You had taken one of your rare naps—beauty seems to quiet your constant second guessing, which makes my confidence louder.

I came from behind you, gently snatched you in my arms, and wrapped you in that beautiful moment. I predicted you would wrestle and fight with the fury of a thousand hellhounds, but I was ready; every razor-sharp spur was muffled in the crucible of my calm, and your angst relaxed in our embrace. Holding you felt like holding the terrified child from my past who had been beaten and bullied, who felt alone, who desperately wanted love, wanted to be safe. I could see you for what you are: a plumed mask for the suffering I’ve endured at the hands of people who forged you into that demon rooster. And I realized I can channel your stubborn resolve into art, stories, and poetry instead of using it to outmaneuver the pain.

When I let go, you remained calm at first, but days later those spurs would sharpen again, your feathers would turn to hellfire, and with all the rage of a dragon, you would spread your wings, ready to attack. I can’t help but think that maybe you’re right; I may never be rid of you, and you may never be truly tame. You can attack, strut, scratch, and crow as loud as you want; you’re just doing what you’ve learned to do to survive, but, Fear, you’ve been hacked; I now know how to pause and hold you without being afraid.

With courage,
Your Constant Companion

Style Score 100%

Dear fear,
It is Victoria finally writing directly to you. You have been present in my every day occurrences and thoughts. I live with you at my side however the onset of massive impact came to me in August 2024. We have had multiple encounters with each over life however as I write this piece the fear is present. Before I dive into that I want to take a moment to give an overview of natural fear.
I was a swim instructor over a decade ago after pausing being a triathlete in a life transition. I taught across lifespans of babies to adults for an Olympic champion. I noticed that the fear was a natural component of kids in a certain portion of swim lessons. Children naturally develop fear at the ages of 3-4 years old. Coincidentally, teaching 3 – 4-year-olds to swim can be an extremely exhilarating experience, while for others it can be an extremely fearful one. While it could be difficult for others creating a space of trust with kids to eventually having them take a leap (physically and faithfully), or at least making the effort to do so in order to advance levels.
Back to my fear. One day in August while stopped at a traffic light I was rear-ended by someone who had very little regard to the incident. They attempted to dismiss accountability at the scene. Here I am six months later, still under multiple treatments and ongoing care. I continue to do so at the time of submission. I have put my life on hold because of this auto accident. My job as a bilingual children’s therapist has been extremely gratifying and motivating despite its ongoing challenges. Currently, I find myself in the therapist’s chair not as the therapist, but as the patient. In this given situation I am at the mercy of various medical and care providers. I am constantly in the hospital or medical halls for testing amongst various treatments. When I was just in the middle of care with my lack of focus, I got a concussion diagnosis as a result of this auto collision.
This has been not only difficult but fearful regarding how I am going to get through the day, the next day and the feeling that keeps coming up around all of this. My other fear, I am claustrophobic. Of course, to obtain imaging around my injuries I have gone to get MRI’s done that I had to have switched to have a CT scan done because of physically losing my air in my lungs and being restimulated by the entire auto accident experience which only gives me more tension while in the machine. I have cried, I have had serious doubts about my self-worth (as a woman and human being) in this world from this accident. With additional medical care I have to get the MRI and will have to be sedated and monitored while in the MRI machine. While I am concerned for my safety this is my reality at this fork in the road.
I know you fear. You have been the copilot in my daily living from this. I used to be able to wear any bra, clothing items and now I have to think if the bra is going to hurt or agitate my neck or inevitably constrict my already limited range of motion. I have given this six months and here I am still in pain and while recuperating this time I cannot get back in any way, shape or form.
While that is not nearly enough, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had to help care for her as a daughter, an only child and a woman. I had to reject a job offer to maintain my extreme level of care. My overall well-being has been stagnant with fear at my side while having to show up for myself, my mom and others as a children’s mental health professional.
While I am no longer a swim instructor. That exact definition of fear has gone into my head to take a leap of faith off a different diving board. While I am still on the road to recovery this has been the hardest time for me personally. Coincidently, getting back in the water (in a limited capacity) is my next recommendation it will be hard however once there – fear I cannot entertain you at my side any longer.
I truly hope we do not meet again in any related circumstances.
Farewell fear,
Victoria Morillo, M.Ed., QMHP-C (Qualified Mental Health Professional-Child)
Style Score 76%

Dear Fear,

You have been a loyal companion to me throughout my entire life. How generous of you to stick with me with as often as I have cursed you out and wished for you to “just leave me already, would you!!!” Yet here you remain.

How kind of you to continue to accompany me to each new adventure I have partaken in and to every milestone I have hit throughout my life.

You have been my co-pilot on the journey of each new friendship I have started and with every invitation I have received, you have always been my plus one.

You have escorted me to every social gathering I have attended, where you stood close by, even as my knees shook, my voice quivered and my heart raced.

Through every negative emotion, heartache, and embarrassing moment, you still never looked away. You have seen me at my worst and have remained by my side to confirm your endless presence in my life.

Oh dear fear, I have mistreated you so, because you see, I have always viewed you as a hinderance in my life. However, as of recently, I see you for what you really are…

You are the thoughts that live in my mind that never actually get to live in the real world.

You are the painful pit in my stomach that keeps me from eating for an entire day so that I could fit into my jeans for my upcoming first date.

You are the rush of energetic nerves that keep me from oversleeping on the morning of starting my new job.

You are the jolt of awareness that keeps me alert while I am driving alone down an unfamiliar road at night.

You are the creator of my worst nightmares that never get to experience daylight.

You are the inspiration for all of my award-winning stories, so thanks for the endless script ideas.

I see it so clearly now that you are not a curse to my life, even if that’s what you are trying to be. You, after all, are a blessing to me.

I wish for you to stay to accompany me into the next chapter of my journey and to continue to be my partner on the dance floor of life. I couldn’t imagine living without you, for you have designed a perfect custom choreography to keep me twirling through it all.

Style score from PROWRITINGAID:100%

Dear fear, fright, trepidation… “How many aliases do you have?” Dear friend and foe, how well I know you so. Today I name you collywobble, a silly name because I have found my strength, gained my foothold against you. “How?” you may ask. “Through SUFFERING.” I have found the way to defeat you. I have found my voice, and I will share on this platform of unwavering support. Through this… you will also know your defeat.

Six years ago, a battle began, a battle between honesty vs. deceit; righteousness vs. wickedness; genuine love vs. revenge. Though I fought a valiant battle, I was rigor’d with crippling trepidation, leaving me fragmented, my psyche exploding into pieces. A shadow enveloped me as I tried to speak my truth; my voice drowned out by malicious deception; losing my energy, my spirit, and trust within myself. I entered a place of SUFFERING and a pit of hopeless despair I never thought I could escape. Losing everyone I ever cared about. I knew nothing could save me now. I resigned myself, in its entirety. I SURRENDERED, I SUFFERED, I GRIEVED, FEELING TORMENTED DAY AND NIGHT WITHOUT ESCAPE. I knew no other way, but to CLING to everything I was losing, GRASPING… GRAPPLING… PAINFULLY REACHING FOR THE LIFE I ONCE HAD. TORMENTED BY THE HOLING ON.

I WAS FORCED TO LET GO…

LOVE RIPPED FROM MY SOUL…

As I learned to LET GO, I found my STRENGTH. I developed a new energy, realizing that this was all part of MY PLAN, MY JOURNEY, MY SOUL CONTRACT. This was the only way to KNOW MYSELF, LEARN MYSELF, and begin on this newfound path. I needed to face my worst fear, lose what I loved most, stare my demons in the face, and ultimately LET GO, my worst nightmare. Now… only through experience and anguish did I learn that LETTING GO is my best friend.
FRIEND OR FOE, HOW I KNOW YOU SO.

Style score: 100%

I can hear the scratching, almost feel the pecking—something trying to claw its way inside.
I look out the windows, and the abyss swallows the night.

Minutes, hours, nights, weeks, months, years.
I don’t know.
I’ve lost track of time.

I’m caged, but I’m safe.

That doesn’t stop the screaming.
The boards tearing from my walls.
The pounding.
I’m terrified of what’s out there, but I can’t see.
And there’s no way to look.
Terrified of the unknown.
Even more terrified that there’s nothing.

I am starved.
Wilting.
The fire suffocating, snuffed.

The banging grows louder.
The screams stab at my very being.
Until, like an animal killing its hunt—I tear off the door and see.

Light.
Screens on my windows.
A tree brushing the house.
Birds singing.

The only thing holding me in was me.

I run outside, breathe in the air.
There’s a small fountain.
I look down.

I see my captor.

I will be held back no longer.
Not by the safe that chokes.
Not by the safe that bolts me down from possibility.

I choose to breathe.
I choose risk.
I choose the unknown.

Style Score: 100%

Dear Fear,
You know who it is
It’s me, the one you toil with
The one you constantly attack
Cuz you know that I won’t fight back
Well, I have words for you today
Something I’ve been wanting to say…
Is this that I’ve changed,
Understand this, you haven’t been the grandest roommate
I see you’ve been littering in my house
You’ve killed the atmosphere
The aroma is stale, no new fresh breath of air
Dead is all I can say
But now I have decided to change up the game
I’m getting up and taking a stance
Decided to water the flowers today
A change in pace
Eviction notice on your door
Time for you to get out the way
No more I say
You won’t rob me of the greatness that radiates inside me
I have a grander plan got from the Most High
The master plan
This greatness you can’t stop; according to His will it’ll add to the unity
The fight against forces that humanity can’t see
I know you now
I see your intention
You are a part of the darker forces scheming to rob steal and kill me, my fellow brethren and sistren
Ye don’t you know Light is Truth
No more silly games
I decree and declare you are no more welcome here
You will not when the fight against the Children of Light
Forever, Truth Has the Victory
Now I stand with a sound mind, of peace and love
Knowing now with Christ I can do all things
For when He is for me, who can be against me, not even you
I won’t be seeing you anytime, not even soon✌️
Brothers & Sister, wear this around your neck like a scarf,
“For God did not give me a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind!” 2 Timothy 1:7

Style Score:67

My Deepest, Dearest Fear,

 I’m writing to you today to ask for some space. I think we’ve spent more than enough time together, and I wish for a change of scenery. This relationship is only benefiting you; that’s not fair to me. I deserve to look at my life without the thought of you dampening my visions. You’ve had a chokehold on me for the past twenty-three years, always showing me how the things I desire are out of reach because I won’t make it—taunting me with whispers, begging me to fall for you. I’m tired of listening to you.

 Failure, you are the worst thing to come into my life. In high school, I prided myself on my grades. My academic achievements were the most important thing to me. You took that from me. Your wicked whispers finally overcame me in my second year of college, pushing me to an academic suspension. Do you know how much that hurt? Do you know what that did to me, Failure? Well, let me tell you. It filled me with embarrassment; I began comparing myself to those around me ten times as much as I had done beforehand.  

 I looked at my three siblings and watched them flourish from the bottom of the barrel that I had come to call my home. I lived in you, Failure—you had me convinced that this was my destiny, that I wouldn’t succeed in anything in life. You’re a stain of shame that no Tide Stick is capable of removing from the front of my best white shirt. It feels as though people look at me, but only see that dark, aching stain on my shirt. I hide you from people, Failure; I’m embarrassed by what they might think of you. What if your presence in my life affects how others perceive me? Will they look at what you’ve brought me to do in my academics and discredit everything I’ve learned? Will they think less of me? I don’t want to worry about their thoughts, but you’ve made me hyperaware of them. 

 I will tell you one positive thing that you have done for me, Failure. You have pushed me so far down to the deepest depths of a depression that I built the stamina to climb back up. That Associate’s Degree that you stole from me? I got it. Now? I’m working on finishing my Bachelor’s. Your hand has been wrapped around my throat for too long. I’m so sick of what you’ve done to my life. Even now, you creep in the corner of my visions, reminding me of when I caved to you. I felt you pulling on me last semester, begging me to curl up in your arms again. I’ll tell you what. I refuse to be yours. 

 I’m breaking up with you. It’s not me. It’s you. I’m destined for great things. I want to live in a world where I achieve my goals, not one where you rip them away from me. I want the air I breathe to be light on my lungs. I want to finish this damn degree and get a job where I can help people. You may have stained the clothes I once wore, but I’ve grown to wear new clothes—clothes that better fit me. I am going to take you out of my life because I don’t want you here. 

 Let me rephrase what I said in the opening of this letter. I’m tired of asking you to leave. I demand space. When I’m studying for classes, I don’t want to see you. When I’m working to afford my rent, I don’t want to see you. When I’m walking across the stage, diploma in hand, I don’t want to see you. I’ve worked so hard on myself in the past three years for you to take this all away from me. I’ve created a relationship with myself that has continued to strengthen each and every day. 

 So, let this be the last time you hear from me, Failure. I want nothing to do with you anymore. Being scared of you has done nothing but bring me closer to you, and my biggest goal is to get the furthest away from you that I possibly can.

May you never have a chokehold on anyone else as tight as you once did me. 

(Style Score: 76%)

Dear fear,

You’ve been riding in the shotgun seat for so long, I’ve tuned you out. You were still there, of course. Each opportunity I dodged. Every discomfort I stifled. Those were the echoes of your voice, which I mistook for my GPS.

I must confess that I don’t completely understand why you’re even here. I barely remember much of our time together. So, to understand you better, I went to retrace our steps.

A few things are certain. I’ve known you since at least elementary school, and we’ve been tied at the hip for the rest of my life. Your arrival was not one dramatic entrance, rather, you crept your way in sneakily over time so that nobody would catch you.

In the beginning, I didn’t know what you were. You came out of nowhere, but you whispered things that just seemed to make sense,

“Don’t make them upset.” I didn’t know how to honor that, but boy, did I learn.

One of the earliest instances I remember happened in front of the rest of my classmates in elementary school. We were sitting on a large, colorful carpet while listening to a story. Our substitute teacher was sitting right in front of all of us. Suddenly, he leaned in and scolded me,

“STOP ROCKING.”

So I did, abruptly. I didn’t know that was bad. I didn’t even know I was doing it. Just rocking back and forth, apparently, while sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the middle of the room. It seemed insignificant, because afterwards we just went back to what we were doing.

That moment was hurtful, but I’m sure everybody had moments where they got scolded for being silly.

Learn from the mistake. It was as simple as that, right? 

Wrong. Something that kept making people upset didn’t go away. I kept making mistakes and being judged for all these things I had no idea I was supposed to know, well past the age where it was acceptable to be ‘silly.’

On another occasion, we were supposed to line up for the school bus to pick us up. Even though it sounds ridiculous, I couldn’t tell which side of the line was the front, so I walked past all the students and got scolded by the bus driver for cutting everybody, even though I didn’t mean to.

There were more experiences like this and tons of more subtle ones. I laughed for a bit too long at other people’s jokes. I was overly awkward at goodbyes. Eye contact made me uncomfortable. And most of all, everything around me stressed me out, burdening me with consistent anxiety that only made it harder to interact with people, and no outlet.

Nobody else saw what was happening to me except you. So you contributed your energy to help me suppress it, or if I couldn’t, I’d avoid putting myself in situations that made it worse. This way, we would mask it.

I went on as if nothing was wrong. With the support of my dad and my teachers, I got straight A’s all throughout school, except during the 2020 lockdown. I had perfect attendance and outstanding behaviour. My teachers always talked about how much of an excellent student I was.

My stress remained, but I believed it didn’t matter since my grades were good. Nobody asked me what was wrong, or if they did, I didn’t know what to say.

Then one day, my parents took me to see a psychologist. She revealed that I was autistic.

Just like you, the understanding of autism didn’t arrive all at once. I only slowly understood how my autism shapes my unique way of engaging with the world, different from non-autistic people.

At last, I realised what you are. You are the fear of other people misunderstanding my autistic traits and antagonizing me for it.

When I was totally lost in the world, you were consistent and absolute. You helped me achieve some caricature of peace. But things change, and friends drift apart.

I’m an adult now, and I have resources that I didn’t have back then. I have autonomy and the space to reevaluate myself.

I can work on moving my self-worth away from being based on other people’s approval and closer to my truth and values. I’ll show up for myself by taking care of my needs instead of suppressing them, and I’ll speak up so that the people close to me know what they are.

I’ll become who I am, instead of the person you guided me to be.

Fear, you won’t be gone, but I’ll have to take back the GPS.

My Deepest apologies…

-Gabby

P.S. I don’t actually have a car. How are you in it?

(Style Score 77%)