Embracing Fear

My jeans scraped against my royal blue gown as I shifted on the bleachers and scratched the back of my head under my graduation cap. My mom would have something to say about my fidgeting if she were here. Looking around at the football field and the kids gathered for graduation rehearsal, it dawned on me that this was the end of my childhood.

These kids, most of them I never cared to see again, would be gone after the ceremonies. I was suddenly overcome with sadness and fear. In a couple of days I’d be shoved out into adulthood with no plan. All I knew was that I had been signed up for college and I had to go. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life yet, I needed more time.

Fear took over and I began to do some really careless things to escape this feeling. All my practiced no’s with my boyfriend became a nervous yes that resulted in an abortion a few months later when I arrived at the school I was supposed to graduate from one day.

I didn’t graduate. I slunk home in shame and spiraled into a deep depression. After an attempt at permanent sleep and a round of cognitive behavioral therapy, I wandered all over Southern California, from one job to another, and from one to another man’s bed until I was drained emotionally.

I saw dropping out of school as my biggest failure and fear stopped me trying again. Sex was something I was good at. I enjoyed it, it made me happy. And it prevented me from facing myself.

Divorce

For a time, I thought maybe marriage had saved me from all of that. But my fears just changed to new ones. I think this is was the first time I really understood that fear is a staple in life. It’s not something that ever really goes away. It’s always there. Dormant for a bit and then pops up again when you’re finally in a good spot.

My big fear for 20 years was divorce. No matter how bad it got, I needed it not to end. I was more afraid of it being over, of failing at something everyone else made look so easy, than living in pain and toxicity.

But getting past this fear wasn’t a matter of distraction this time. It wasn’t something I could glide out of and into something else to get rid of it. This time it took having a rug pulled out from under me. Like the time I was picked up and thrown into a lake to force me to swim, I was shoved into singlehood when I asked for therapy and temporary celibacy.