Dear Mouse,

Why did I use the term ‘dear’ when speaking to you? I have no affection for you whatsoever.

Last night, I awoke to the sound of scratching and scuffling under my kitchen sink. Although it was not loud, the creepy feeling permeated my entire being. I woke my husband to investigate. My suspicions were correct. You had encroached in my space, leaving me feeling violated. My restful repose had fled, as you eluded his attempt to capture you. How dare you!

I find you repulsive, so don’t flatter yourself that you are my greatest fear-’musophobia’. I can’t explain why you terrify me so much. Let’s just call it a visceral reaction that goes beyond intellect. I am a logical woman and many times I have tried to analyze this irrational fear and conquer it. Alas, I failed.

The sight, sound, or suspicion that you or your kin are in my vicinity causes intense physical reaction. My pulse quickens, my breathing speeds up, and often my gag reflex kicks into high gear. The uncontrollable shiver that runs up and down my spine, bringing on ‘heebie-jeebies’, is ridiculous, I know.

How can I allow such a tiny creature, a hundredth of my size, to terrify me so? You don’t have vicious fangs or claws (okay, maybe on a miniature scale) that could do me much damage. Perhaps it’s the way you scurry about at warp speed, too quick, too unpredictable, freaking me out even in peripheral view. Maybe it’s the thought of you lurking about unseen, assessing your surroundings, figuring out your next move, and spying on me.

Don’t start tooting your own horn when I mention you are a master escapologist, slipping through the smallest openings, to invade spaces where you are not welcome; and elude capture.

I will acknowledge that you are not out to get me. It’s cold outside, and you need food and shelter, I get that. However, I implore you to remain in your natural habitat: straw bales, barns, abandoned buildings, dense brush. Rodents would love these places, and barnyard animals tolerate sharing space.

So here’s the deal. Take heed to my warning. I have now planted several varieties of traps in many spots, whose location I shall not divulge to you; we have launched a thorough investigation around the perimeter of our home, sealing up every nook and cranny; and last, but not least, we have placed our two feline furries on high alert to keep you and your family and friends at bay. Spread the word.

I am regaining control-I will not allow you to defeat me. Fear only has as much power as I allow it to possess. I will begin each day with calming meditation and my mantra:

“You are only a mouse, and I am stronger than you.”

Respectfully distant,

The Conqueror

My writing style score was 100%

Dear Fear of Being Forgotten,

Will my children say good things about me at my funeral or write something endearing on my epitaph? Will my family be able to survive after I am gone? After all, they believe I have all the answers. Does my goofiness in the workplace mean my memory will have longevity? I wonder if I will leave a legacy to be remembered, passed down, and replicated through the generations? Will they forget about me and never speak of me again? Will I be able to make enough money to leave some for everyone? What will happen to them after I am gone? Will they eat right? Will they be able to solve problems?

I am so full of life. This life I live. Rarely do I rest, and I never stop. I am always the person to come to for answers for all others. I have no fear. I am not afraid of anything! At least that is what I let people think, feel, and accept from me. I can not define myself as a fraud. I feel that it is only my business of what I am afraid of. I want to slay the dragon of fear on my own. Well, mostly alone. My husband is the only person that might have a clue. I am the most real with him. He knows my dreams, ambitions, weaknesses and my fears. Maybe even the ones I have not yet acknowledged on my own.

But you, Forgotten, are my most dangerous and frightening dragon. Your fire has not shown its light. Your face is not scary. You keep your teeth hidden behind big firm lips of hopefulness. You make yourself out to be a kind, patient beast. Yet your potential has me shaking in my shoes. Daily. Weekly.

How the media runs the lives of my loved ones, I fear they will not have a physical picture of me to show the coming generations. Although physical pictures have a way of eluding the future, too, I am not filled with the same horror. Without a picture or memento, they will not relive memories. Without memories, I am not remembered.

Forgotten, you are a witness that I live daily for my family. Every decision I make is mostly about them. It does not matter the ages, distances, or growth. I want them to know that I care for them. I love them. I desire to know about their lives. What excites them, scares them, drives them to the next page in life. I yearn to learn goals and passions and be there to hug them when they achieve those.

My passion is to be someone they wish to mimic, copy, and be like. Their hero. You see, heroes are legends that never die. They live on in the memories and stories for generations to come. That is my goal. My passion.

My tools to defeat the memory slashing dragon are contact, creation, time, photos, laughter, assistance, mentoring, goals and dreams, and the presence of me.

I plan to keep in contact with those I wish to be held in high regard and significance. After connecting, I will be creating episodes of laughter, fun, exploration, and talks. Some short talks with long walks. Some long intertwined conversations about love, life, family and feelings. Maybe a little wine thrown in to enhance the release of burdens on adult responsibilities, if only to be replaced by laughter for a minute. Time can be our enemy or our ally. I desire to make it my friend. I don’t waste, but cherish, time spent with people I care about. This creates my presence, wisdom, knowledge, photos, and assistance with both of our dreams.

Finally, but continuously, I am going to chase my dreams and passions for finances and my version of success. This will show everyone that I am not afraid to reach them at any age. I will show them they can, too.

Take that, Unmemorable and Forgotten! I will be remembered! I will achieve illustrious, heroic status! Your unseen fire will not burn me away. Your sharp, hidden teeth will never take a bite out of me. You will be slain. You, my fearful friend will be laid to rest at my feet before I am laid to rest at theirs.

Respectfully Not Yours,
Rebbecca Reynolds

(Style score 61%)

Dear Fear,

You creep in shadows, whispering low, a voice warning me not to show the love I hold, the truth I bear, instead to seek healing in God’s prayer.

You paint the world in black and white, warning me to hide and not to fight. You say the way I love’s not right. That I’m standing in darkness instead of light.

But Fear, I see your twisted game; you thrive on silence and grow from shame. You feed on doubt and plant despair, yet I refuse to live there.

For love is love, and I will be free. No hate can steal my soul from me. I won’t shrink back or hide in disguise. Rather, I’ll meet the world with open eyes.

So go ahead, lurk and loom, for I’ll fill the dark with light and I’ll bloom. I will face your storm with strength and a love so fiercely bold and true that not even you can break through.

Goodbye, Fear, you’ve lost today. I choose to love. I choose to stay.

Sincerely,

Me.
Style Score: 100

Hello Fear,

Do you remember when we were both little girls, and you told me that all chandeliers are haunted? Or after I saw the movie Jaws, all forms of water, including my shower, would cause a shark attack? Or if I didn’t list every single person I cared about before going to bed, they would die (that might have to be a letter to OCD)? You are a silly little prankster, aren’t you?

Although as I got older, your tricks became more mature—therefore, more daunting. You have a powerful voice that becomes overwhelming. Everyone hates you. You won’t succeed at anything. You can’t break up with your abusive boyfriend. You can’t speak up. You are a disappointment. You are so consumed with me you can’t move. I am stagnant. 

I had anxiety levels that could power electricity. I could barely speak in the home I lived in. I struggled to make friends. I couldn’t stand up for myself. This caused me to stay in situations that perpetuated more fear. A terrible feedback loop. A fear-back loop, if you will.

I could never understand why I let you have all of this power. You crept into every single area. The weight of all of your thoughts was so heavy that you were crushing me. I couldn’t lift myself up. I couldn’t climb out.

I didn’t feel fulfilled. I didn’t feel happy. I didn’t see a point in living. You pushed me around so hard; I didn’t think there was a way out. 

I kept asking myself, what is the answer? What should I do? I will do anything. After years of asking these questions, therapy, and online help groups, I started to put the pieces together. 

I am the only one that can save me. I am the only one that can change me. Fear isn’t someone else, but a part of me—therefore I have control.

So, I did what I never thought I would ever do in my life. Run towards you.

I did something that scared the living shit out of me. A live storytelling competition. The reason for this decision was because one of my fears was the fear of being perceived. I needed to tackle my fears one by one, and this one was the starting point. 

It was in front of a large crowd. Contestants don’t know when they are going up to perform, and they get ranked immediately on a scale from 1 to 10. 

When I got to the venue, I was shaking, dissociating, and panicking. As I was watching the other performers, fear got louder. It was the loudest you had ever been. You are not good enough for this. These people are so much better than you. You are going to choke. You don’t know what you are doing. I looked at my friend at that moment and said “I don’t know if I can do this, I think I want to go home.” Fear almost won. Key-word is almost. 

At that moment, my name was called. It was my turn. I was up. Everything stopped. Time froze. I couldn’t leave now. I thought that the fear would kick into high gear, but you didn’t.

In fact, I heard a new voice in my head. One I had never heard spoke. She was kind. She was gentle. Uplifting. Motivating. I didn’t know who she was, but she told me it is okay. You got this. You are just doing it for you and no one else. Just do it to show yourself that you can. Prove fear wrong.

And then I went up there. 

I don’t remember all that happened. I blacked out. I think that is a trauma response. 

But I do remember how I felt. Euphoric, fulfilled, so incredibly proud, and above all else—confident. Never in my life would I have expected myself to feel confident up there, especially because fear was telling me I would feel the opposite. 

I got off the stage, and there was cheering. A lot of it. I couldn’t believe it. My friend was crying tears of joy. I was shaking with emotion. Not good, not bad, just an overwhelming sense of emotion.

I ended up winning the competition that day. Me. The girl who was scared of anything and everything. 

Fear, you are a tricky thing. You are scary, debilitating, and can cause people to take no action with their life. But, maybe, you are a sign. If I didn’t confront you, I would have never known that storytelling is something I am passionate about and—hell—even good at!

Maybe you are pushing me to be someone I never knew I could. Once I faced you, I saw all that I was capable of.

Style Score: 72%

This is a letter to my fears, the ones who’ve taken away so many years.

I’ve lived with self doubt, so now I have so many “what ifs?”
I’ve missed opportunities thinking “I’m not made for this.”

The fear of rejection, so I didn’t try the things that I would’ve excelled in.
The fear of trusting others, so I held all of my traumas within.

The fear of getting hurt again, so instead I caused others pain.
The fear of sober thoughts, so I was a slave to Mary Jane.

The fear of gaining weight, so I would purge every meal.
The fear of being myself so who I showed wasn’t real.

The fear of not being pretty enough, so I was always insecure.
The fear of being alone, so I chased those who didn’t want me anymore.

The fear of disappointing others, so I became an overachiever.
The fear of God not loving me, so for a while, I wasn’t a believer.

The fear of not being good enough, so instead I’d hold myself back.
But God took away all those fears, so now there’s nothing I lack.

My fear of taking chances meant I’ve lived with a lot of regrets.
Now, I confront my fears and always strive to do my best.

style score: 100%

I feel you. I carry you in the pit of my stomach, in the depths of my mind, in the restless nights and the silent moments when it’s just me and the weight of everything I’ve been and everything I fear I’ll never be. You are the shadow that clings to me, whispering truths I am too afraid to face and lies I am too willing to believe. You terrify me because you are not just about not knowing—you are about what I already see in myself.

You are the fear that I will wake up one day and realize life passed me by while I was too busy blaming everything and everyone else. That I will see my potential in ruins, my fingerprints on every broken piece, and realize the same hands that could have built something beautiful were the ones that tore it down. You remind me that the people who hurt me have moved on, built lives, succeeded—while I stayed behind, willingly bound by the chains of their actions and my own self-sabotage. You force me to confront the possibility that I have been my greatest enemy, betraying the little girl I once was when she needed me the most.

You make me wonder if I am worthy-if my children will look up to me, will I ever be someone my sisters can be proud of? Someone I can be proud of? You haunt me with the thought of my children looking at me, disappointed, and saying the words I already tell myself in the quiet moments: that I failed. I let life slip through my fingers-allowing my pain to define me instead of fighting for the life I deserve.

Fear, here’s what I need you to know: I hear you, but I will not let you win.

Yes, I have made mistakes and blamed others when I should have taken responsibility. Yes, I have hurt myself in ways no one else could—by not standing up for the little girl who needed someone to protect her, to love her, to believe in her-But I am still here. Still capable of change, and the ability to rewrite the story I have been telling myself. And that little girl? She is still inside me. She is waiting, not with anger or judgment, but with hope—hope that I will finally show up for her the way no one else ever did. To fight for her, love her, and honor her pain by refusing to let it be what defines her.

You are my fear of wasted potential, but you are also a reminder that I still have it. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t exist. You wouldn’t hold so much power over me. The fear of failing is proof that I still care. It means I still have something worth fighting for.

So, Fear, I see you. I feel you. I acknowledge you. But I will not let you dictate my life. I will stumble, and I will fall. I will make mistakes, but I will get up. I will try—and I will keep trying until I become the person my children, my sisters, and that little girl inside me can be proud of. Not because I am perfect, but because I never gave up on myself.

Thank you for reminding me of what’s at stake. Now watch me prove you wrong.

Sincerely,

Me

(100% style score)

 Dear Fear of Mines, 

                       For so long I have let you hunt me in ways unimaginable; I can vaguely remember the first time I met you. Throughout the years, I have noticed how strong you have become and set up shop in my subconscious. Who would’ve thought the fear of failing or letting down your family could be motivation? Remembering growing up having no cares in the world, then coming of age seeing failures around me. Image being the first to accomplish basic things in the family, but still being lost in the curse. Being consumed with complacency and bottom tier means of life. I remember like yesterday being told by family and friends that i was different and chosen. Even after they said that, I still didn’t fully grasp the statement. Even at that point in time was the fear, not at its peak for me. You instantly stayed closed and waited for opportunities to capitalize. Seeing my mom struggle and understanding the struggle was a big turning point for my fear for years. I know you became your strongest when my kids were born and the direction of life changed massively. Through all the turmoil and downfalls, that fear played a big part in how I view choices and situations. It was a fear unlike me not wanting to swim in large bodies of water or being in high places scared of heights. I was able to overcome those two fears, but you are another monster that plays a different role in my life. The reason I won’t allow you to be my fail point because it would provide a negative and unwanted display of failure to my kids and loved ones. You have directed me to take a journey least traveled standing on my Faith in God. 

                                                                                                                      
    Sincerely, 

                                                                                                                      Maurice Cox 

Style score 100%

Dear Fear,

I want to say I don’t know who you are, but we both know that to be false. You scare the living daylights out of me. Make me forget that I’m in charge. But I believe I cannot control you, so I’m at your mercy. Anger comes to my aid, trying to thwart or deter you. It works for a moment or two before you grab hold of me once again.

If I had it my way, I wouldn’t keep you around. You hold me back from new experiences too often. But how can I be so callous? You are also my protector when danger approaches. You give me energy and you point me toward my desires. These mixed feelings bring much confusion. Maybe that’s all part of the plan! How can I remove you when I also need you?

No matter how strong my desires are, we cannot get rid of each other. So let us coexist. This fear of failure or imperfection has driven us to succeed in ways we never imagined. But it has also crippled our creativity for half our life. Indecision became a byproduct of you, among other things, such as procrastination and self-criticism. How are these to help us? If we are to thrive together, then I must learn to accept you for who you are. The same applies to me. I desperately need to accept myself. Only then can we work together. Without acceptance, I am left with resistance.

Looks like we’re going to spend more time with each other now. I’ve taken you for granted, as well as myself. Appreciation is the remedy for that. But I doubt my ability to do this. Maybe that’s your voice, reminding me of the importance of this mission. Resistance is futile, right? We will figure this out together. I can still feel a fear of failing. But I suppose that tells me I’m still ALIVE.

Much love,
Kelly Anne

Style Score – 100%

Dear Death,

On November 18th, 2023, I came home late from work and proceeded up the steps to the front door with exhaustion, looking through the window expecting to see nana on her recliner. I routinely expected her warm smile, but the eerie stillness of the air met me instead. I dropped my bag and keys clinking on the counter, I called out, “Nana?” -voice trembling with foreboding. Scanning every room looking for family, but came to nothing; routine quickly abandoned. I finally came upon the bathroom door me and my grandmother shared. I creaked the door open to a scene time won’t erase: a butcher knife lay abandoned on the sink, blood scattered across the mirror. Turning around, my heart sunk as my eyes adjusted to the scene. Nan laid still in the bathtub, water tinged with red, her gentle face pale. Overwhelming horror seized my heart, a memory frozen in sorrow, innocent eyes witnessing unbearable pain. I found life shattered like the silence. I screamed as if releasing despair’s symphony. A low tremble rose to a piercing wail. Time warped — seconds stretched into eternal nightmares. On November 18th, 2023, you took one of the most important people in my life, my grandmother.

Death, you travel with so much mythology, inspire fear, cause pain, but don’t even have the authority to make a simple trade. I know all of your sentiments and the poets spend their time trying to understand you, but I know exactly who you are: you are the very opposite of my existence. I hate you for accepting invitations and whispering lies into our ears and savagely interrupting the innocent and young by your cold and icy grasps. You rob the world of promise, laughter, and untold stories, leaving only echoes of what could never be. You are the very definition of what rots in the ground, yet you haunt my mind every day. You would keep me up at night, scared to close my eyes and see the mess that you left that night, with no slight understanding of how much she meant to my soul. Do you collect my tears as a trophy from what you’ve gained as a result of what I’ve lost? How greedy of you to keep people in separate places – worlds apart. It’s not in human nature to bid farewell. And that’s why I feared you because you will continue to take because that’s all you do is take, and take, and take. You take, and we eat up all the pain and we swallow it and I have the nightmares and cold sweats about her bleeding out, and it’s how you take- no closure, no goodbyes, no warnings. This is what you are, a monster that lives in the dark and patiently waits to disrupt our world.

I’ve learned many secrets through my grief. Through faith, my Father will heal my heart from the damage you caused. You stole countless memories yet to be: you ended earthly life but began God’s eternal embrace. I will join my grandmother whole, no grief- only reunion. Your temporary win, His eternal victory. Once permanent, now defeated. Jesus’s blood stained your dark door- unlocking heaven’s gate. You stole temporarily: He restores eternally. Your sting neutralized. His love remains forever venomous to your claim. God is death’s conqueror. You are merely a shadow preceding Gold’s glorious rebirth: your darkness only highlights His eternal light. And one day I know I will be with her again because nothing can separate a Christian from God’s love. But if I am reminded of how much pain that courses through my body when I think of what you did, I am reminded of how much love I had in my heart for her. I’d rather remember love and endure the pain than not know love at all; it’s a pain I’ll embrace forever. And one day there will be no more you and no more pain. But for now, we come to a standstill and I say to you: I accept you, and when it is my day to come, I know I will truly accept you because my Father will be on the other side. This is the faith I carry. You cannot scare me forever. And I will not let fear lead my life. I will live for her.

Till we meet one day, Allison Collins.

Style Score: 100%

Dear Fear,

Throughout my life, you have always been there. You were there when I was born, watched even when I was being strangled by the umbilical cord around my neck, yet I survived. You have been there when loud noises would startle me. My growing fear was that my parents would leave or become deported. I felt I would fall off from the bike as I rode it down the sidewalk, but I managed. I would fear I would have no friends at school because I was brown, and I was different, yet I had friends throughout my school years. I had feared that I would fail school because I would feel dumb all the time. Although I still dread the day that the world seeks to attack me. People can use any minor mistake or word against me. I feel dumb and stupid like I’m not worth being heard. I just don’t think I fit into this world. I dread the day my poor choices earn me condemnation, making me feel incapable of ever doing right. In a Mexican household, insecurities are often the subject of jokes, which make me feel even more foolish and mocked. There is a moment where I question, Will you be quick to judge me or understand me when I say that I’m talking to a married man? I fear I may become a home wrecker, but I didn’t want to see someone die, and suicide is not something to joke around with unless you are careful with what words you say. I don’t understand why I had talked to a married man, but let me explain. He was going through some problems. I felt like he had low self-esteem. He reminded me of myself when nobody listens to me, and so I will listen to what he had to say. I don’t know why, but his wife and her mere presence stung my aurora from the very day I encountered her. She was strangely too nice. Almost like I could tell she was not a nice person and as if she were portraying herself as someone she wasn’t. Not long do I learn she had been cheating on him with a variety of different men every single day. It angered me because I think this gives women a poor reputation or I would think it gives men an excuse to treat a woman like trash. I couldn’t understand how someone as thoughtful and caring as he could be with someone that treats him poorly. One thing to keep in mind is that this man grew up with a horrible relationship with his mother that would make him feel like he did nothing right. I learned men marry women that remind them of their mothers. It was very condescending of his wife to tell him she wanted to kill herself too, right after he had said it. Maybe I cared too much for people because even then when she said it I was upset for her, but realized it was one of her manipulative and toxic words to keep him. This married man had told me that when he married her, he knew she suffered from bipolar disorder and her mood swings rapidly and extremely change from one emotion to another. Despite loving her, he had said that he never thought it would be a problem in the future, but it appeared he was wrong. He had now decided to divorce her even before he found out from me she was cheating. It’s unfortunate that men like him who suffer from low self-esteem often start making poor choices and start depending on substance abuse as well. I realized something was off from his life, either drinking or smoking. The unfortunate thing is that once they have become tolerant, they find no other way till they succumb to death. It’s the ultimate self-deceiving many see out of the problems they have. Although, unlike me, I have touched no substance abuse. I had thoughts of ending it all. I don’t think I deserve the blessings and I feel like trash. I can never feel like I’m worth living because I fear that the world hates me. How can someone who has always received blessings fit into this chaotic world? Even when this fear of the world hating me reminds me of it every single day, I know this fear won’t win. As long as I’m alive, I keep winning every day and proving it wrong. I would even say I have won a bonus prize because saving two lives a day is worth it.

Style: 91%

It’s craaaaaaazy to think how my biggest fear has become to never live a life without you. For 39 years, we’ve been in lock and step with each other. Like on some, “Heeeeeyyyyy Twin” type-ish. And no shade to you because I played my part too, but respectfully, I’m done with you. I see how you’ve kept me from not wanting to be seen, experiencing unconditional love, accepting help from others, and even asking for help. I see how you’ve kept me playing small, afraid to shine the light that is so bright within me. There have been situations where I should’ve popped out and showed […] but instead I remained silent, not creating boundaries or advocating for myself. You’ve kept me from the truth, seeing it and speaking it and from living a fun and spontaneous life. Your chokehold has stifled my creativity and made change feel cumbersome and challenging.

It’s been giving, very Scary Spice, very Keeping up with the Joneses, but also very do you not know who TF you are?!!

The codependency of our relationship has made “letting go” some of the toughest and hardest pills to swallow. It’s kept me around people I had no business being around, questioning my own abilities and intellect and making me emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, and financially insecure. Our relationship has made me untrusting of others, but more importantly of myself, leaving me in a constant state of survival.

Last summer, my therapist asked me do I love myself? And as hard as it was for me to admit, I had to say, “No.” Admitting that cut me the deepest, because our relationship and my fear of abandonment made me believe I’m not loveable and good enough just the way I am. It made me believe people-pleasing, and being agreeable, never bucking the system, and always compliant, made me deserving of love and acceptance. I believed I was keeping myself safe when, in reality, I was dying a slow death, trying to show up and give others what I so desperately needed to give myself—LOVE.

We’ve literally been through it all. And I love you, because you have been a part of me, and I’m learning the importance of loving all of me, but today I release you with love. We go no further because just having this attachment is keeping me from being who I’m supposed to be—HER.

I’m writing you this letter, not to shame or guilt you but to liberate myself by choosing to release any residual anger for all the times I did not choose myself. To manifest the type of person and life I want to live, continue to heal and alchemize the pain I have endured and turn it into purpose.

You see, God has been reprogramming my mind and spirit to know and believe in something other than you—ME! She has been showing me the covering and protection over my life and how divinely guided I truly am. And through this unveiling, it has taught me how to trust in her divine plan and timing over my life. I believe when God has a specific calling over your life, it’s going to keep chasing you until you surrender to it. God’s been trying to show me why nothing else is going to work, no matter how hard I try. Our souls already have its divine purpose, its divine assignment and when you’re walking in your purpose, you don’t have to do anything but BE.

Now I’m going to be honest; I still don’t know the direction in which my life is headed. God has kept me cloaked from previewing that information, and I’m okay with that. Excited and anxious AF while waiting for it all to make sense, but still okay; and let me tell you why. I’m okay because I have worked diligently to make amends with you by digging deep and going into the depths of my shadows to identify the origin of your birth so I could heal every part of me affected by your presence. I’m okay because as I’ve gone through my isolation phase and endured every tower moment thrown my way, I see how God has been preparing me to step into a higher timeline by cultivating this unshakeable confidence, Omarion-like unbotheredness, and a magnetism only a Goddess in her divine femininity can create in me. He’s been developing my main character energy so I can be FREE to show up unapologetically as my authentic self. God said, “Genét, you are HER! And I chose you to be her because I’ve put a light and love inside of you to inspire and encourage others to see the same in themselves. But I need you to choose you too because you can’t choose you and fear? Not where I’m trying to take you. So, who is it going to be?”

And I chose me.

Style Score: 100%

UNMASKED FEAR

Dear haunted mind, muted in silence, filling in anger.

Nights were filled with nightmares as my mind fought to scream, only to produce sweat in moans and groans. Upon awakening, I pondered my paralyzed voice and its inability to scream precisely what I wanted to say. What was its cause, and where did it come from? I sought and confronted this monster with my tools gathered over the years. To confront the deep-rooted fear I believed was squatting in my being, I used meditation, reflection, acceptance, therapy, coaching, forgiveness, prayer, and all the things. The name burst from the hollow of my lungs one moonlit night during this journey. A scream so ice-clear it woke me from my sleep. M*****F*****.
The acquainted stranger only revealed its name, not its face, cause, or origin.
Could this mf be the face of my father’s volatile red anger? Or the knife of betrayal marked by the yellow fingerprints of a beloved best friend? Perhaps it was the thief in the dark night entering from the basement to steal the family stereo and sense of security. Or maybe it was the bruising rejection of not being allowed to participate in a Catholic first communion ceremony because my family is Presbyterian. In a child’s mind, this is beyond comprehension. Was I not good enough to marry Jesus? Would I need to be a saint without needing confession or forgiveness? That would be white perfection! Maybe the mf was the first hand to offer me the exhausting despair of a mind-mood-altering substance. It’s possible it was the disingenuous behavior of my children’s father who painted over me in a dismissing grey, fearing the reality of complete removal. Or could it be the father of lies who stalks and whose greatest feat is making the world believe he does not exist? Or even darker, maybe the fear is the monster within sabotaging self from being all God created me to be… a revealer of his enduring love.
The healing journey involved surrender, awareness, acceptance, trust, and a more profound forgiveness and all the things. Then, a dream in the moonlit night took me to a place in my mind where I waited for the terrorizer ascending from down within, basement-like, to the first floor of my heart. I stayed at the top as the mf climbed towards my mind. When it reached the top, with my right hand, I removed the mask, revealing a faceless emotion. The mf was not just one thing, event, or person. It was a feeling of danger, threat, and pain. The pain was my greatest fear and will undoubtedly accompany me in this lifetime, but God. And I felt its grip fading. Fear is not something I’ll get over easily or necessarily aspire to because I no longer fear the pain. I walk closer in my faith during these uncertain moments, looking for the color of the stained glass of life and my purpose. Giving thanks, I can endure for the sake of others.
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”-Isaiah 41:10

Spirit-Fill
Melinda

87%

Dear fear of the unknown,

I’ve put your name in lowercase to foreshadow how small of an impact you’ll have on my life. I’m sure you’ve frightened many a perfectionist and inferiority-complex ridden individuals in your time, and this has included me. I’m sure you’d love the assurance of my going down memory lane and telling you how I’ve feared you since I was a little girl–how you began as a fear of darkness and later resembled something like a terror of failure, to now, when the future shouts at me from an unknown expanse and I can’t see what’s in front of me. Now, how I’m reminded of my childhood self again, how I recognize that familiar feeling creeping up inside of me.

I thought you should know my company let me go recently. After receiving a near perfect evaluation on my performance review for the seventh year in a row, my boss told me my position was being eliminated. He slid the review across his desk and said it was mine to keep after giving me the news in the most sincere way he could. Even though he told me it wasn’t my fault, there wasn’t a way around the difficulty of that conversation and the feeling of being phased out.

I thought you should know you haunted me that first week after receiving the news and recurrently after, as I’m hurled into the deep end of an unknown ocean. I find myself scared of the future, this fear taking the shape of a broken job market full of horror stories from others seeking employment. Not being able to see what’s on the other side of this door frightens me.

They’ve said to keep in mind I’m not the only one going through these kinds of things. They’ve said to remember that there are others experiencing just as bad, if not much worse. But what good does that do me when I’m alone in my room at night trying to fall asleep to the soundtrack of my life? What good does that do me when I’m sitting by myself in the spare bedroom of my home in the light of a blazing afternoon, as the day quickly shifts and the sun disappearing from the sky tells me I’ve run out of time. I should pack up and try again tomorrow.

But then I look out at the birds soaring in the soft blue sky, hovering around the sunlight. I see them gliding on the wind with their wings outspread as far as they can go, and, deeper than all of the fear and worry and anxiety, I have an even deeper feeling that I’m going to be okay. I’ve got a weight that’s more like an anchor inside me, never weighing me down, but in the midst of my most untamable emotions, holds me steady. And if moving steadily forward means first being grounded and stable, what I’m tethered to–or who–keeps me in His hands, holding the universe and my world in His nail-torn palms.

Where He is, is where I’m supposed to be, and I think I’m going to be okay.

Because maybe, just maybe, what waits on the other side of this door isn’t terror or fright, but wonder. Could it be that this fog hides something more breathtaking than I could ever think of? That someday soon I’ll discover it is little more than the cloak that covers the beautiful unknown before it’s revealed in all its glory?

The truth is, I know the ending of this story. Because it’s already written.

And if I stop for a moment and look around, I can see there is someone else beside me in this furnace, the same One who halts the stormy seas with His voice, who, when He calls out to the wind and waves and tells them to be still, they must cease. The One the fiercest storm bows to, even the storm of my own emotions.

His name is Jesus, and He’s already won this victory for me. All that’s left to do is walk forward and meet it in the future.

Sincerely and never yours,

( 90% style score)

Dear fear, you’ve been a great friend. You saved my life more than once. You’ve kept my feet on the ground when I wanted to fly. All my life I approached ledge after ledge and you kept me from going too far. I didn’t fall from the jungle gym because you advised me not to climb it in the first place. I didn’t follow the stranger with candy because you pointed out that I didn’t know where he was going. I didn’t drown in a big body of water because you took my breath away just looking in.
You’re the reason I lived past my childhood, but since I’ve grown up you’ve become a debilitating hindrance. I didn’t go to that party because you told me I’d stick out like a sore thumb. I didn’t pursue my interest because you told me I’d be an utter fail. I didn’t do a good deed because you said people would look at me weird. I didn’t follow my heart in love, because you said it would get ripped from my chest. I didn’t attach well to people because you said they’ll betray me anyway. I didn’t allow intimacy in relationships because you said it would hollow out my soul. I haven’ t done a lot of things that I really should have because of you. I’ve been learning more about you. About how you make yourself seem bigger than me, How you seek to control more of my life. Your voice shouts and clamors for more and more attention. You’ve convinced me many times to make ‘rational decisions’ that drain my soul of any joy. You have blinded me to my decision making abilities and strength.
Allow me to introduce you, my dear fear, to my God. My God is love, and his perfect love will cast you out. It’s time for you to pack up your half truths and go. You are no longer welcome here. Your voice is silenced when your lies are exposed. You are nothing more than a small monkey with enormous feet, hiding in the woods where creatures run in fear when they see your footprints, but laugh hysterically when they see your small stature and hear your simpering voice. You keep hidden, using only your footprints and long shadows to intimidate and terrify. Your raspy voice whispers lies to those cowering behind the boulders. They become yours to control until the truth exposes you for what you really are.
So now that you’ve gone from my life, I will do things I’ve always wanted to do. I know how to assess risk and make smart choices without being terrified. I will try new things and not be afraid of failure because trying again is the pathway to excellence. I will climb, because the view at the top is amazing. I will love deeply, knowing it’s better to be heartbroken than not to have loved at all. I will learn intimacy, knowing and being known is true connection. I will do good things and not wonder what people think of me. That’s not my business, anyway. I will not cower in safety while the worthwhile things in life pass me by. You will no longer keep me from experiencing abundant life, and the joys of living unfettered by the lies you tell. You whisper and woo, promising safety and comfort, but those soon become isolation and loneliness. Depression becomes constant for lack of purpose, you seem like a good thing, a good training tool for children, preventative harm, but you have become my box of shame and turmoil. I know the truth now, and it has set me free. Death is one of your favorite threats, but really, a life not lived freely, joyless and without wild abandon, with feet that cannot move, a heart that cannot love, a life that can’t be enjoyed, is to experience death without being dead. So as I go through my life with you banished from my presence, I will see your big footprints and know that you are on the run, for I have seen you in the light and laugh at your existence. You’ll have no power over me and I’ll no longer be yours to control. You’ll be on the run, hiding your shame in caves and I’ll tell others of your footprints and the tiny little liar that makes them.
With power and sound mind, no longer yours, Lisa
Style score from pro writing aid-100%

Dear Depths of My Fear,
My heart feels tight as my eyes see what is before me. I touch my chest as though that would help the feeling disappear. I thought a little at first. But as time passed, I noticed it creeping up more and more.
The beauty of the ocean is magnificent. The sounds of the water can be calming. And yet, thoughts of what lies beneath the water make my heart tighten. What seemed like nothing at first had only gotten worse.
How do you tell people that the depth of the ocean brings you this fear? Photos, videos, and even movies bring the smallest of fear into my body.
Fear–that one word that lingers in my mind. Can I overcome this? Is this going to overtake me? Or can I grasp this fear and face it head on?
Like the ocean, this fear was deep within me. I did not know it was there, or maybe I ignored it. Thinking it would go away. However, it was there, finding its way to the surface. I did not want to live in fear. I wanted to enjoy things like others do.
In my mind, I felt like the ocean could swallow me whole: the fear of the unknown.
I want to overcome this fear and not let it run my life. My mind wonders at the idea of overcoming it. Like breaking chains from a prison that only I was in. If I can comfortably watch a movie without the tightness in my chest… if I can tell my sister I feel comfortable swimming in the ocean… if I can just no longer feel it overcoming me. If only.
I stand strong as I prepare to face my fears, starting with where they started. The images that made my body feel haunted. It will be a slow process; this is something I know for sure. But with time, I will chip away at the fear that once controlled me. No longer keeping a hold of my mind…of my body.
Sincerely,
No Longer Afraid

(Style score – 100%)

I fear it is fear I do not lack.
Just a big scaredy-cat with panic attacks.
I react, such a strong impact,
the dread in my head on this body it attacks.
What was and wasn’t said, or may be fact,
or misread. I contend
with logic and reason, but anxiety
can be such a cancerous lesion.
It overtakes and takes and takes;
I feel possessed by a demon.
Such high stakes. It seems
a mutinous nervous system
has mastered its treason.
But to defy and spite these odds of plight
I battle my fright leaning towards the light.
Yes, it’s in the fight that we just might
us humans discover our animal bite;
true grit, to wit,
strength reminders that
we’re gonna be alright.
Fear is a catalyst and placeholder,
igniting a passionate motor,
and it summons forth our courage
while holding space for bravery to flourish.
I keep deep gratitude for the fear
and all it does dear
as it provides a clear need
for a solution to appear.
On the other side we find
hidden powers of the mind,
and the wisdom that is gained
is not earned in vain.
For all we attain through the pain
is too invaluable to complain,
and the hard-learned lessons remain
long after fear’s temporary reign.

Style Score: 73%