fear

Fear.  We all feel it but some people are better at pushing past the fear and doing something anyway.

I’m a girl that hates to be scared.  I do not want one single person to ever think for one second that I am in any way, shape or form a fraidy cat.    In fact, I will go out of my way to make sure I don’t look scared.

Which is why my pathological fear of roller coasters has always pissed me off a little.    There’s no way to trick people into believing you’re not scared when you’re the one standing on the ground holding all the purses while trying not to look up.

This being the year of yes, I let myself get talked into going on a roller coaster.  A scary one.  A really, really scary one that brings you to the top of what can only be described as a metal mountain (may as well be a mountain because it looks as tall as one when you’re going up it flat on your back) and then stops as you hover right on the edge before it lets you drop straight down.

That moment right there is the moment I have been terrified of all my life.  That moment of dropping, feeling like nothing is under you, that moment when your stomach jumps straight into your mouth- that moment has terrified me my whole life.   Hell, I didn’t even take an airplane until I was close to 30.  I just knew as soon as my ass left the earth that plane was going to go down.    It took three or four flights before I would even get out of my seat and walk to the bathroom.

But here’s the thing- I met a whole bunch of awesome people on the internet and they were having a slumber party.   A slumber party all the way out in California.  So if I wanted to get there, I was going to have to get on a damn plane.    In fact, if I wanted to do much of the stuff I dreamed of doing, this plane business was going to have to get resolved.

And it did.

I had no idea that I would ever, ever get on a roller coaster.    I thought I would be a card-carrying member of the purseholding club for the rest of my life.  And as much as I hated anyone thinking I was a damn sissy, I had to be ok with it because there was no chance in hell I was going on a roller coaster.

But a funny thing happened.  I got tired of not doing things with people because I was afraid – afraid of heights, afraid of criticism, afraid of those nasty voices in my head that sometimes try to drag me down.

So I decided this would be the “Year of Yes”.

When my friend tried to convince me to ride a roller coaster I took a big old deep breath and said yes.

And I rode it.  Then I rode it again.  Then I rode another one.  And then I rode that one a second time with my hands in the air.  Then, scared to the point of almost wetting my pants (what can I say, I needed some courage and Bud Light never does me wrong), I got in the front row.

And I did it.  With my hands in the air.

Guess what happened?  Not a damn thing.  I didn’t wet my pants, I didn’t throw up, I didn’t fall out of the roller coaster, I didn’t die.

Nothing at all happened.

Well, one thing did happen- I have a smile on my face that just won’t go away.

Maybe I should confront my fears a little more often.

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