Addiction

I’m an addict
And I know it!

I revere two of the three Cs:
Coffee, candy, and cigarettes.

I love my coffee alone with my contemplation
Of life, likes, posts, news, like a great commotion,

Flitting from one to the next trying to see
What’s best before I rest to be free.

Posts galore and replies of mine
Make my day, as the taste of Coffee

Feels like a sinful pleasure.
With my dark drink, I bite into chocolate,

And drift into a coma at heaven’s gate.
I savor the sweetness along the strength

Of body of the coffee and it’s bitterness.

Life with the morning rituals
Cake, candy, chocolate, coffee and sweets

Is like life without a hero like Ferrero,
Or Cadbury, Mars, KitKat, and Aero!

Raising the bar in a day filled
With noise, poised to litter the mind

With fear, worry, and being drear!
So my habitual start is set in stone:

Coffee, contemplation, quiet that have
A lead to social media, news, where I refuse

To succumb to its dadarkness
That needs to twist your morning addictions

Into a depressive, foggy darkness.
Let your coffee’s wisdom fill
Your empty cup with hope that will

Reject solidifying into despair,
But reaches in your depths to repair.
©️ Malak kalmoni chehab ©️

Dear Boots,

You are strapped in and strapped on, holding tight to the teathered ground you thought you left behind. Oh you thought they were made for walking but like prey, that hawk is stalking.

Boots you know what to do in the dust of the wind and you’ve also had the taste of strutting the line at the base of the river that runs deep. Climbing and climbing not knowing this mountain was so steep, when will you finally reach its peak?

Boots you are not worn down, you are not warped like the soil lands you have found. You were made to run, to dance and take a stance because you smell of new leather, you just haven’t allowed the right home where you “have to break them in.”

Break them curses, break them rules, break that damn ruins that put dirt on your steel toe boots. Break them in all right, break down barriers and Boots I’m telling you, put up that fight.

Make yourself shiny and new. Find that place that makes you feel abundantly clean and renewed. Boots love yourself the way you love the paths you walk because you are undeniably a Rios of Mercedes that can’t be found like a boot that makes themselves available on every block.

The View

Wow, it’s insane how the world looks at you .
Do you think you’ll be enough for maybe one or two.
Is it too much to ask to see you just more than once?
I can’t imagine what you have to go through inside to present yourself
These people must be dunce if they don’t want you.

I love opening the door and smelling your scent
The smell is on my pillow from having you close to me
If I have you too much, I might have to repent

I’m super lucky to have you all to myself
I’m not selfish, but with you, I have to be .
You’re so fit, dark like chocolate, juicy meat on your body.
I rather have you any day over a plate of shellfish.

Do you know when I fell in love with you?
I fell in love with you as a child.
I took one look at you and said “you’re going to be all mine “and that’s true.
I couldn’t wait to become an adult and see how you grew. How you flourished.
I love you even more as an adult.
Who would have known.

People fight over you all the time.
I can’t blame them.
You pair so well with a glass of wine.
I love seeing you come out, and it’s actual steam coming out of you because you’re so dam hot !
You’re beautiful, soft and well matured.
You’re moist and refreshing and the best cure.

The scent of cloves as you walk by
The smile on my face when I see you.
When we are in a restaurant, and I’m with my friends, I count the minutes to see your sexy blend.

You sit well on top of colored grains
My heart can’t take it anymore.
I’m going to go insane.
As you come over to me, I lose everything in my brain.
Is this what actual love feels like?

I enjoy you, I love you, and I can’t get enough of the view.

I have to have you
I’m sure you do too.
Look at you!
Look at that view!
Oxtails, rice and peas with plantains too!

Oh, how I love to daydream

Because you sleep when the sun is out

That’s the only way to see you

Until the bright beams have gone down

But

When you wake

What a sight for the stars in the evening sky

You captivate me with your beauty

I have confessed my deepest fears to you

So serene and complex

There is no doubt

My exquisite moon

In every phase of your life

I adore you

Dear Fear,
I hope you know this whole thing is sincere.
For the most part, I’m glad that you’re here.
Even through the times when you’ve lit up my senses and sent this overactive imagination into a manic hyper-drive trying to analyze every worst-case scenario reading in between their unseen lines. Even when you’ve caused some opportunities that were offered to you and me to slip through these fingertips because my grip was too preoccupied. Even when you’ve supplied my mind with a damaging panic that I couldn’t quite define or properly manage. Despite the times where I tried to forget everything and run, there were also times where I tried to face everything and rise. So I’m grateful that I’ve been able to find some creative angels amidst the mist of what I’ve missed with you within and right by my side.
You’ve led me to places that I would have never found if you weren’t around me. Granted, there are some situations where you came in while I was drowning in my emoceans that I wish I could replace. Yet, even then, you led me to some deeply challenging depths entangled in roots of the truth that we are all blessed. You’ve helped me preserve through the tears that tore apart my mind and chest, where there were tears which scared me from taking another step. You’ve broken the seal of how it feels to really feel real while facing situations that made it seem like life was coming to an end. You’ve done your best to protect me from regrets, mistakes, and early deaths.
So thank you, fear.
For being here.

Style score of sixty four 😊

FEAR

Fear, what does it mean: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat?

“He is prey to irrational fears”

There are many types of fears, however they are three types I would like to refer to:

The Three Types of Fear are as follows

Rational Fear: Rational fears occur where there is a real, imminent threat…

Primal Fear: Primal fear is defined as an innate fear that is programmed into our brains. …

Irrational Fear: Irrational fears are the ones that don’t make logical sense and can vary greatly from person to person.

Ok

They say you should not fear no man or woman/ everything and fear God, so I leave with this:

Do we respect God or have a fear of him? It is both. I respect, love and fear him all at he same time. Respect for who he is, creating of everything including me, love him because of the sacrifice he made for me, and fear his judgment if I do things that are wrong. 

As a Strong independent woman, what do I fear?

Failure 

Now, I have to tell you what is failure: 

noun

lack of success.

“An economic policy that is doomed to failure”

Similar:

lack of success

nonsuccess

non-fulfillment

defeat

frustration

collapse

foundering

misfiring

coming to nothing

falling through

fizzling out

fiasco

debacle

catastrophe

disaster

blunder

damp squirt

flop

botch

hash

foul-up

screwup

washout

letdown

dead loss

dead duck

lead balloon

lemon

fail

cock-up

pig’s ear

snafu

clinker

View 2 vulgar slang words

Opposite:

success, the omission of expected or required action.

“Their failure to comply with the basic rules”

their failure to comply with the basic rules”

Similar:

negligence

remissness

nonobservance

nonperformance

dereliction

omission

neglect

oversight

I said all things to you, because I was neglected as child and always wanted give a performance. Scared to let anyone down to be washout, letdown and all words highlighted. I want to perfect and successful; however, no one is perfect expect for Jesus. Successful comes in so many aspects in career and life. The true meaning of success is: True success means staying true to a deeper sense of purpose, despite deviating from a superficial social norm. It means finding joy in suffering. It means having the courage to peruse one’s own journey when confronted by the fear of uncertainty. I have found some joy in my suffering and I will confront the fear of uncertainty. I have a deeper sense of purpose and I am out of the norm. 

I want to share 13 steps to be successful in life: 

Find a passion. To be successful, it is important to define what you want in life. …

Show commitment. …

Learn from the journey. …

Have fun along the way. …

Think positively. …

Be honest with yourself. …

Take away distractions. …

Depend on yourself.

&

What words can replace “successful”?

Synonym Drs

triumphant.

effective.

efficacious.

accomplished.

achieved.

complete.

fruitful.

perfect.

Drake & Trey Songz’s song about success said all what is to be successful. They want the money, cars and the hoes. I want that too, lol. 

In conclusion, I guess that is why I always wanted not to fail, not saying I did not, because I did have some hiccups. I made some mistakes. Did I let stop me? NO! I will never ever quit. I learned from my mistakes. I brush myself and learned from my lessons. When I fall, I get right back up and try again. Power of the tongue and law of attractions. Say something and will come true. So, I will not be a failure and I will l be a success. Fear is another emotion and do not let it overpower you. It is okay to be fearful or be afraid, however do not it is let consume you. 

To Fear,

Hey, how are you? I can’t stop thinking about you. Reminiscing on the first time we met, or at least the first time I remember meeting.

Man, has it been that long? I was seven years old the first time you entered my thoughts. Your small voice whispering in my ear- “this isn’t forever, you will die”..

“Mommy!!” I screamed. Mom came running to my bedside, “ what is it, what is it??!”

“ I am going to die!” I cried, remember?

Mom calmly replied “ Yes one day we all will die”. Even though mom sat by my side, one hand on my heart, one hand on my forehead.. talkin to me about the power of the beautiful, white light of protection..

You fear, you stuck to me. With me. On me. Through all the stages of maturity.. child, adolescent, young womanhood . We’ve been inseparable.

Like the time you reminded me if I should ever be happy and loved, it wouldn’t last.. I could die. They would die.

You never left my side, fear. From worrying mom would crash in a drunk driving accident on the way home from the bar, to when dad and mom fought so badly the cops would show up.. you told me they would kill one another, eventually.

Ohhhh reminds me when Maya was born, my beautiful daughter, making me a mom. I quickly realized I was no good as a mother, thanks to you, fear.

I just knew that I would fail, is failing, all the time. Especially with you gripping my hands. Nudging me this is too, too good to last, it won’t last. Happiness. Joy. Serenity. Love.

And suddenly, unexpectedly- I muted our connection. With breath. With movement and postures, mantras and mudras. Gratitude was my morning coffee when the first light made its way inside.

You see, I started my life with you. For as long ago as I can recall, and through the decades of my life. Now, the vail is removed. I am content. I am comfortable. I aged well. I am loved. I love me, inside and out. Yet, here you come around again…

I’m older, I’m wiser, how come you don’t care? For old times sake you whisper-“ hey, it’s too late. You’ve waited too long, you’ve wasted too much time fucking up,
with love,
with your family
and children,

So this I am healed now, happy, love, joy stuff? It isn’t staying. You’re gonna die, or you’ll experience the greatest loss you will ever know”

that’s what I get for holding your hand, fear. All this time, all these years? You’re still here?

Maybe you were trying to tell me all along? Teaching me to live as if nothing real lasts? That I will die.. I am going to die.. we will all die, one day. So treat yourself and others you love deeply with the truest affections possible. We never really are promised the time..

Thank you, dear fear. How could I have not seen? The mastery of letting you go can only come from me..

Style score was 100.

“Fear nothing” people say, but we all quiver. Our hands tremble and nobody sees. We look at our phones, and see inspirational messages every day. The hustle of work, the chase of improvement. Everything’s okay. We know of the wonderful lives that exist. We see them on our screens. Possibilities exist, consistency, consistency, the motivational quotes state. But when we look up from our screens, reality may hit us. When looking down, we can’t look up. And when we look up, there is so much to see, to fill in, the empty canvas, more daunting than the instructions given by someone else, who might want to help, but looking out for their own statistic. The canvases of people’s lives are there, and we find ours hard to paint. People take a look at themselves and try, many succeeding, or so it seems. The numbers on the screen may consume.

In college, as I sit in a psychology class, statistics are talked about. I’m scared. Fill out Question number 6. On it, there is a statistic that kids in the back of the class are more likely to fail. It is scientifically proven by a case study. I am a straight A student in the back of the class. A student whose family didn’t go to college; drop-outs, divorces, poverty, addictions. A student who has snuck in about 5 minutes late each day with a large coffee in hand. It is only the second week of the term and I feel the weight of the numbers squeezing me. I had considered a leave of absence, and the fact that I am even sitting in the chair is me fighting against the numbers.

I am in the middle of a move, the stress almost crushing me, turning me into a number lost in millions. Lost. Oh, moves are one of the most statistically stressful events in a person’s life. I find this out, and feel better, although I have moved lots before, throughout childhood, many homes, never stressed like this. So, I get a coffee from the new shop downstairs, try to find class, almost late, almost thinking of skipping. Another statistic, more absences, higher risk of leaving. And I sit in the back of class, late for attendance. Second class, I am in the back of the class, my mind wandering, missing my name, speaking up about the end, and my teacher says, “oh, I don’t know how I missed that”. I know it’s me who missed that. A head to count when I often don’t know where mine is.

After the first day of class, I had gone to the new coffee shop again, until dark. Would a statistic do this? On the third day of class, there was no new coffee shop. A car had crashed into it, breaking statistics, an unusual blip. I fear the statistics of everything. I don’t want to be another bad blip, shattering like the windows that left scrapes and bruises. I fear my name will be called and I won’t hear it. I fear the numbers will envelope me. I fear the screens that drown me, even with positivity that I’m afraid won’t be there. I fear, I fear, I fear.

We all fight to not be a number, a statistic in our family, another head to count. We all want to be seen. I’m scared that we have turned ourselves into numbers. So, every day I try to change the formula. Spread words and my kindness, letting us all know we are not just a statistic, a number on the screen, and we can continue to fight against it. Even while sitting in the back of the class, I will not quiver, but know that there is no fight, just undivided attention to what is in front of us, not below or above, but straight ahead.

Style Score: 81% (added lines between paragraphs though)

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.