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%)

For too long, you have sat beside me like an unwelcome guest, whispering doubts into the quiet corners of my mind, casting shadows over my dreams. You have gripped my heart in moments when I should have soared, kept me trapped in hesitation when I should have stepped boldly into my purpose. You have stolen my breath, my confidence, my belief in myself. But today, I am writing to you not as your prisoner, but as your reckoning.

You have told me that I may leave this world without fulfilling my purpose, without breaking free from the traumas and scars I have carried like armor. You have made me fear that time will slip through my fingers before I can inspire, before I can heal, before I can leave a mark that outlives me. You have tried to convince me that I may pass through this life without truly living.

But I refuse to let you win.

I have walked through the fire of heartbreak, of loss, of self-doubt, and yet, here I stand. I have endured pain so deep it threatened to consume me, but I did not break. My scars are not reminders of my suffering—they are proof of my survival. Every tear I have shed, every battle I have fought, has led me here. I have been refined by the very things you told me would destroy me.

I am no longer waiting for the “right moment” to become who I was meant to be. My transformation is already unfolding. My voice is already speaking life. My healing is already inspiring. And that means, Fear, that you no longer have power over me.

I will love deeply, live fully, and walk in my divine purpose. I will not leave this earth with my heart full of unspoken truths or my hands empty of impact. My faith is greater than you. My purpose is bigger than you. My destiny is beyond your reach.

You have had your time, but I am taking my power back.

I am no longer yours to hold.

Dear Fear,
The singularity of your denotation is laughable – as if I could boil your torturous embezzlement of the soul into something non-plural. I’m afraid you’re much more than that.

The loathsome entity who walks hand in hand with Time. A vile representation of one’s thoughts often viewed radically opposing that of your counterpart. And yet, if you weaken – well, let’s just say Time heals all wounds.
I’m afraid of you, Fear. The definitive strength and swiftness of your cataclysmic actions are only rivaled by Mother Nature herself. I’m afraid of how Time will affect our relationship. Fearful of what you will or won’t have me do. The choices and options I’ll take on only to be led down the crackled path meticulously laid by your working hands. I’m afraid you have been with me since birth, my longest companion. The infant brain continuously in fight-or-flight mode, reacting instinctively to reduce the stress carried in your core. The potential shame I feel battling with daily toil only to be put down by peers. The hindsight of risks taken and its lonely and logical perspective breakdown of one’s past failures and future consequences. You are equipped with powers to silence voices, shut down ideas, and shift morals. The beautiful and dangerous ability to change how one views them self in the mirror. A repertoire packed with century worn gadgets of confusion, marginalization, and ill judgement. Balanced delicately with the innate capability to guide the weak toward strength. Presenting opportunities to rise above challenges you’ve previously crafted. And provide a small beacon of light charting course toward self-improvement and gratification. Only You can tiptoe the existential tightrope between excitement and daunt. A resilient and acrobatic performance walking along the accords of your own divided soul. A terrifying feat.
Is my story just yours? A tale comprised of your experienced puppetry spun in different avenues, adding to a web of my incapacities and your amusement? Is your reflection stronger in my shortcomings or my accomplishments? Why is your complete essence burning with negativity but lie so bluntly in plain view seeking demise? Do you fear the ones you control will overcome you, or is there hope that you fear they will not? And do you get lonely within your laborious endeavors? Don’t, Fear. I’ll always be around.See, to overcome you would be paradoxical. I fear that the solutions to you, Fear, is simply existing. For death would mean I’m alleviated from our strenuous relationship, leaving us wondering who achieved more. A timeless bout you’ve claimed partner stake in through eternity.
I’m afraid we have many more years left Fear, and I’m afraid it may not be all the time we need.
Yours truly,
Matthew J Beeler
Style Score – 75%

Dear sex,
When I was a child, my parents openly explained human reproduction to me. I wasn’t scared of you then. You brought me a healthy baby brother that I hated for a while, but then learned to tolerate.
When I was a teenager, I grew into myself a bit more and realized that I wanted children of my own one day—a big family with lots of love. The scene of lots of laughter and sticky fingers came to mind so easily. I started welcoming you then, but I decided I would save you for the man I love and trust, and not just one I had a small crush on.
It was when I reached my last year of high school and my first year of college that I met a boy I felt more comfortable with. We’d spend hours kissing, as teenagers often do, but I always lacked the courage to start. It always had to be him who made the first move, and although he touched me in ways meant for lovers only, I couldn’t do it in return. I’d always retaliate in panic and disgust. I tried to keep my feelings hidden, as I knew he felt self-conscious by my reactions, but it wasn’t his fault—it was yours.
I loved this man and felt a brief panic was not only normal, but worth enduring for the one you trust. After a long, serious conversation, I said I was ready to take our relationship physically all the way because I thought it’s what he wanted. I thought it was what I wanted. He broke up with me that night.
When I became more of an adult, I met my now husband. I repeated the same things to him. I can’t initiate. I tense up. I pull away, but it’s not his fault—it’s yours.
I ultimately fell in love with my husband because he treated me like a prize instead of something broken. If he felt I wasn’t ready, he’d pull away so I wouldn’t feel guilty and like it was my fault, even though it was actually yours.
He made me feel safe and loved. I decided he was worth everything. He was slow, gentle, and careful, but it hurt. Then, it hurt some more. I started breathing heavily, convincing myself this is what ecstasy is supposed to feel like—that I can do this for him. However, when we were both done, I couldn’t stop hyperventilating. I could feel the walls closing in, my vision darkening, and the vomit creeping up. What is wrong with me?
Believing I was broken, I went to a therapist. She introduced me to asexuality, and I found a community through Reddit, YouTube, and old friends. They helped inform me (and my husband) what it means to be on the ace spectrum. I wasn’t happy at first, though. I couldn’t explain how I felt; my dreams of a big family felt impossible, and I felt inadequate to make my husband happy. I felt like a terrible wife.
I eventually realized I couldn’t be intimate without experiencing a panic attack, and so I consulted a psychologist for coping strategies. I was certain I would never find intimacy enjoyable, but my psychologist told me, “You should enjoy it,” making me feel broken again. Everyone naturally enjoys you. Why not me?
I turned to drugs on my honeymoon because my husband strives for your presence, but they just made me feel sick and more anxious. Out of options, I hesitantly chose to accept that I just don’t like you. I ordered a pride flag, changed my Bitmoji shirt, and even got an ace of hearts tattoo.
Because of my new found merch, a friend of mine asked if I was ace. After sheepishly responding yes, she invited me to a roundtable event for Asexuals only. I finally found other people who think like I do. I am not alone. It is not my fault. It is yours.
I am more confident now that I am not broken. I am ok with being who I am. My husband loves me for who I am. I don’t need to fear you. Surrounding myself with love and support from my newfound family taught me I will not like you, and that’s ok—that a good cry is also healing—especially when your husband brings you a slushy, Twizzlers, and chips after.
Thank you for teaching me to be myself. I will not fear you because my husband, my friends, and my future kids all love me.
With love,
Julia
Style Score: 83%

Dear Fear,
I have allowed you to keep me complacent for far too long. I allowed it because I misinterpreted your behavior as a friendship. Fear you were fake and hid your true identity, which is False Evidence Appearing Real. Showing up daily, weekly, monthly and sometimes annually as isolation and self doubt. Fear you had me thinking that being comfortable was normal and that you would not interrupt my growth and development. You had my mind filled with thoughts that I would always do things wrong and instantly give into not trying new things. Fear you have increased my cortisol levels, and it is not okay. So, Fear I have decided to conquer you once and for all. I will try new things, exercise, and increase my levels of self confidence. I have been practicing being mindfully secure by changing the way I once viewed you, Fear. Currently, my physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being are my priorities. Rather than: I’d rather take small steps forward than avoid a new goal entirely. I will take more deep breaths instead of holding my breath. I will remember hard spaces and things will not last. Looking you straight in the face and saying, “Not today and never Fear!” Fear I will allow myself to be; Be me, and not to be a perfectionist. Fear, I say goodbye to you and your friends that interrupted my life from all the magnificent accomplishments, but guess what, it is not too late. Good Bye Forever!
Sincerely,
The one that recovered all

At first, I was afraid of thunderstorms.
I would hide in the bathroom with my doll in my arms.
I knew where to go if a tornado came.
I’d sleep in bathtubs or basements to feel less afraid.
At school, they taught us to get under the desk,
And I think I’ve been keeping myself low to the ground ever since.
Maybe that’s why, as I grew older,
I became fearful of airplanes,
And now I’m terrified to fly.
In my mind’s eye, it doesn’t seem right to be up in the sky.
I always feel safer in a window seat near the wing.
I guess I find the clouds sort of beautiful and calming.
They make me briefly forget I gave away all control,
To whoever’s flying the plane that I don’t know at all.
Maybe losing control is my real fear in life,
Or maybe my real fear is dying.
Maybe it’s ending up like my mom,
Or maybe it’s being too afraid of trying.
I know I’m afraid of becoming insignificant.
I know I’m afraid of wasting another year,
And now, I think I’m afraid of how I respond to fear.
Of all the toxins I’ve had to remove,
Fear has been the most potent and lasting.
Fear takes over the brain without even asking.
Stuck in survival with stress hormones recycling,
I realize I’m tense even when I’m relaxing.
They say knowledge is the antidote to fear,
But I know that not to be true,
This is what the Tree of Knowledge will do.
The more I learned, the more fearful I became,
And because of fear, I didn’t see things the same.
I want to watch clouds, but my judgement is clouded.
All the new information made my thoughts too crowded.
I realize now everything is neutral until slapped with perspective,
And living in fear is no way to live.

Style Score: 100%

Infidelity,

Inside the shadows, you rest. Watching and waiting for two individuals to become one so you can then prance in between their love. What fancies you about my family? Rays of many blue moons have tinted my skin, while I search for your silhouette in the stillness of my room. Your fragrance lingers on the walls of my childhood room, yet your hunched frame camouflages you. Although I sense your breathing over my shoulder as I write, this letter is dedicated to Infidelity. For I am writing to you — not to surrender, but to defy you.

I remember you first appeared as a gust of wind that sat on my brother’s bed. As I entered the room, I took in your uncanny smile, waiting for me to sit next to you. You wanted to capture my sweet tears to feast on as I heard the regret in my brother’s girlfriend’s voice through the screen. You had paired up with Alcohol the previous night and agreed to puppeteer her turbid conscience into tempting her to a stranger’s bed. Years went on and you visited us once more. Convinced my brother-in-law to welcome another lady into his marital bed with promises that my sister would never find the unmade bed or the empty wine left on the bedside table the next day. I wonder how our tears taste, for they must be sweet enough to entice you to steal drops from tender eyes. Sneaking into the guest room to comfort my inconsolable nephews as screams bounced from wall to wall in the living room was not the most grueling — it was to keep calm as I saw your shadow standing over young souls. You introduced your belongings into my siblings’ wedlock homes, toppling over them like dominoes. I have seen your harsh work — leading those into my room when the ticking of time is the loudest, lurking behind my siblings’ whispered confessions, settling into my mind.

My dreams have changed throughout, yet my desire for love has remained constant. Although I yearn to feel warmth envelop my hands on cold, shaking nights, I hesitate to reach for the hands of a devoted partner — fearing my hands will freeze over theirs. I scrutinize every feeling, every attachment, loathing the thought of opening a door for you.

With all the fear in my heart, I write with valor and dedication that I will not allow you to topple my future matrimony. I will wed someone who not only offers me a partnership, but whose family also welcomes me with open arms. I vow to search for a spouse who provides me with a friend, boyfriend, husband, and father to our future children — a man who offers me a second family. I long for a partner who reflects my faith — Someone who has been cut from the same cloth as the One Eternal Power who humbled Himself for us by becoming flesh. That way, our love will live for the Word: ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’ I will choose someone who clothes himself in the image and likeness of God. Infidelity, I’ll make sure you stumble over your steps and panic clouds your vision. For in the unity of two souls, rooted in faith, you cannot stand. Sacred love: A bond that serves as a sanctuary under God, impenetrable to evil schemes.

I come from a worn-out tapestry, but I am not the same thread responsible for the mistakes of the past. My fated love will be woven into a decorative design, hard to pull apart. I will take responsibility for my weaving. You hold no power over me, for I will not let you see me through the corners of emptiness. My story is my own. I, with the Lord watching over my home, will not welcome you into my life. Your steps will not resonate on the floors of my heart’s dwelling.

You might have haunted my past, but I do not wish to carry you into my future. Infidelity, although I felt no pleasure in knowing you, I allow myself to admit: Your presence has taught me the importance of committing to someone and the value of falling vulnerable to someone. I desire no attempt to cross paths with you, yet your teachings will follow me throughout. I am leaving regret and doubt behind me, Infidelity. As I cut the chains off, I say: ‘Farewell.’

(100% Style Score)

Dear Fear, 
I hope you like the taste of dirt,
Piece by piece, I will be the first to bury you with my shovel, the same way you’ve been
trying to cut through my skin. I will choke you with rocks, so you never speak again of
my height. I will push deep with the sole of my shoe, “Look who’s standing tall now!”.
With my shovel full again, I will cover your heartless ribs. You tried to fill your hollow
insights with mine. In exchange for hate, you tried to take my soul. You turned the world
against me; or rather you turned me against the world. Because of you, I thought even
though short, I didn’t fit in. Because of you, I thought, even though a woman, I didn’t fit
in. Because of you, I thought, even though unique, I didn’t fit in. So there, I crash your
empty ribs with hard soil. 
 Dear Fear, I have news, you will never win over me. You cannot touch me; I have
broken your boney wrists! You cannot grab the fabric of my clothes telling me “It’s
cheap!”. You cannot point at my face with your finger or send your models into my feed
or fix my nose or my eyebrows or the color of my skin. The blood is running warm in my
veins. I might be standing tall, but I am not standing out. I belong in this world as much
as everybody else! 
You will never win over me! I put my name on the stone above your grave! You sent
your faceless terrorists, “Bring me the brain!” you told them, “Bring me the liver!” you
told them, “Bring me her heart!” You wished to swallow me piece by piece, self by self.
Insight out. But I planted violet lilies and white daisies above your grave when I realized
the only way out was through. I found peace through you, Fear. You taught me how to
roll my eyes at your wicked expressions and how to shrug my shoulders at your heinous
comments. I put my name on the stone above your grave; you wanted me to lose
myself and instead you helped me find it. 
That is all I need to go now; the feast is about to begin above your grave. 
Sleep tight.

(83% style score)

Dear Fear,

Hey it’s me again. I thought I got over you, but somehow, I’m still afraid to win. Like we been together so long, I tried to be so strong. I thought we were done. I was so confident, I shined like the sun. Fear you, done a number on my dreams, I allowed you to mute my screams. Suppressions caused my brain too much stress. Somehow still trying my best. I overcame the shame, the pain, the abuse, and the misfortunes. One thing that remains is the distortions of altering time. Trying to accomplish goals, meanwhile, filling the holes of emptiness, somehow, the fear of failure is something I can’t digest. I try my best, I fail, I’m like Jill, looking for jack with the water pail, he walked right past me on the trail. Every time he doesn’t see me, it’s another depiction of invalidation, I’m so thirsty and have me waiting. The fears of lack of love have me hating, raging, in anger, now every time I speak, I’m in danger. My thoughts out loud. Schizophrenic head in the clouds. Fears of the unknown, and the unheard, I’m never quite, I get on my own nerves. So alone, but strong. I keep going, never will I quit, I’ll admit I was so scared to fail, probably because I never had anyone to wish me well. So much pain my brother died in a cell. Now I’m locked and my mind is the jail. But God was the lawyer, the trial was this mental disorder, and I will make it out. I will soon win, I won’t always be in a drought.

Fears of failure? Outside in a world looking for your treasure, but the whole time you’re the treasure. Your gold, it’s so much beauty in the pain you hold. Be bold, and don’t live in fear, although they live in facades, they have problems there.

Dear fear, you will never win. I have this resilience built in. I’m in the season of succession, destined to teach people all my lessons. Dear fear, fuck you! I have better things to do.

Sincerely,

Lu

Dear Fear,
I’m writing to let you know that I’m doing good.
I’m doing all the things I didn’t think that I could.
Dear Fear, even your silence is still loudly heard.
Even when your vision is clear it is still often blurred.
I’m writing to let you know that I still sometimes hurt.
I’m here today to address my concerns.
Please listen up and listen up well.
I come through smooth even when I’m going through hell.
I’m showing you my hand, I’m telling you my tells.
Dear Fear, please do or don’t take this the wrong way.
I hope you take heed to the things that I have to say.
I’m going to do nothing but diminish you when I pray.
Dear Fear, please don’t have a good rest of your day.

Dear Fear,

I immediately regret using a cordial word like ‘dear’ in my greeting. I have zero friendly feelings toward you. You freeze us in our tracks. Fear, you are a giant speed bump on the roads we take to self-actualization. You keep us from getting close enough to the people who need us, as well as those who can help us overcome you.

Choosing one fear to write about in an uncertain world full of trepidation is difficult. I reject some of the bigger and darker fears that people have. Death doesn’t scare me. I can’t summon up fear for a one-time event that is inevitable for us all. It will happen. It’s all of humanity’s destiny. And once it happens, it’s possible we’re not even going to know or care. It’ll be over, and our book of life, at least in this realm, will be closed.

Fear of failure is a popular choice of many, but I’ve never feared failure. Perhaps I’ve fallen short so many times that I’ve become inured to failing. I’ve always believed that if you’re not failing, you’re not trying enough. So, come at me, failure, and I will give you a great big hug.

Way back in 1974, Jim Stafford had a Billboard-charting song titled “Spiders and Snakes” in which Stafford sings of his dislike of the title creatures. They perfectly describe you, my fear. I don’t literally mean creepy, crawly spiders and slithering snakes, although I will admit that coming across a hairy spider in the basement or a snake ready to nip at my ankles in the garden are not my favorite experiences. Maybe if I lived in Australia, where most living creatures are ready, willing, and able to kill humans without any provocation, actual spiders and snakes may scare me. But I live in the USA’s Midwest. Most spiders and snakes I encounter are benign and harmless, except for the figurative ones.

I’m referring to “spiders” like:
“It’s going to take too long.”
“I’m not creative enough to come up with ideas.”
“I don’t have the skills to do that.”

And to “snakes” like:
“I just don’t have the time.”
“I’ve never tried that before.”
“I don’t know how.”

I fear falling prey to those “spiders and snakes” far more than a hairy spider crawling toward me while I’m sitting in the bathroom or turning over a garden rock to find a snake. I much prefer a small bite that will surely heal (again, I’m in the US Midwest and not Australia where almost every living creature is poisonous) to the crippling power of the metaphorical “spiders and snakes” that can stop our lives dead in our tracks with fear. I always try to be kind to animals, but I have no qualms about squishing my symbolic spiders in a tissue of determination or whacking my figurative snakes with a club of resolve. I hope PETA will cut me some slack and look the other way as I dispatch the imaginary creatures representing my actual fears.

And so, I have eschewed fears of death, failure, shark attacks, tornadoes, IRS audits, time share contracts, and buying life insurance, and I have settled on the ever-present metaphorical spiders and snakes in my life as my greatest fear. I can’t carry a tune to save my life, but you can always count on me to sing along unabashedly with Jim Stafford, proclaiming to the world that we both don’t like spiders and snakes.

With great disregard,

88% Style Score

Face Everything And Rise-
Fuck Everything And Run.

January 31st,
Last of the month of this new year
I got the call I’d dreaded-
My baby brother was found dead.
He supported me in every way,
As of my fear-
It cannot flourish,
I’m again six weeks along
I’ve got souls and bodies to nourish.
I have grief to grieve and life to live
To tremble or stall has no place-

“One day at a time,”
Like it said on his hat,
The one he was wearing today when he breathed his last.
I must be ruthless I’m the face of fear-

I’m a wife yearning to be a mother
I’m a sister who just lost her brother.
I’m a daughter who still misses her mom.
I’m a mother to souls unborn,

And to the hope in my organs,
That I’ll be a mother,
That I’ll make it three trimesters along.
I’ll hold one of my children,
So I cannot dwell in fear,
I got the call…
I’ve got grief to grieve,
Life to live and give.
Souls and bodies to nourish,
So there is no time
Unless it’s needed,
No time for tears or fears,
Only hopeful courage.

I’ve got souls and bodies to nourish.
I have grief to grieve and life to live-
In me- fear may not flourish.

“One day at a time,”
Like it said on his hat,
The one he was wearing, when he breathed his last.
Face Everything And Rise,
Face the fear to become the light.

Dear Fear,

I hate your stinking guts! That is how ‘little me’ feels about you, but adult me knows without you I will have no courage. Fear, you force me to face things head on, you push me to see my dreams come true. For a long time, I believed you were working against me, but now I believe you are working for me. Your purpose in my life is to make sure I live—live life to the fullest. You help me see why life is worth living and with you, I can see the beauty on the other side of you.

Every time I face you, it seems you are trying to stop me from loving. And then I quickly remind myself, you are simply giving me the opportunity to see my strength. I take great pleasure in showing you I can do the impossible. Although that may not be the easiest route, looking back and seeing the journey makes me appreciate you more.

I know most people cannot fathom being grateful for you and to you. But I want you to know I am. You’ve really changed my life over the years; for the better. I wish I began partnering with you sooner. I know there will be new challenges in our future, but I am confident through our previous work together la I’ve developed a bold arsenal to guide me through.

Thank you Fear. I see you from the other side.

 
-Carissa

Style Score: 100%