Art and Anticrises

A reminder because, perhaps for the first time, I think I’m choosing to not be afraid

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Two springs ago I took a writing class that I unfortunately wasn’t able to show up fully in. Randomly, life decided that the week the class started I would have the craziest 6-month period of my post-grad life so far in all aspects of life. I dare you all reading this to try the prompt for yourself.

Because, God, I hate change and uncertainty. And, God, I am so afraid.

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If I wasn’t afraid – April 23, 2024

If I wasn’t afraid I would speak up. All the time.

I’m thinking about the differences between speaking up and shutting up. Speaking up and just talking. I feel like sometimes I don’t shut up and talk talk talk, but that’s not the same thing as speaking up. Speaking up involves bravery. Talking non-stop, not necessarily.

Bravery. This returns to the question of “if I wasn’t afraid.” If I wasn’t afraid I would love harder and I would be vulnerable without holding back, always. I think being vulnerable is what I am most afraid of. If I wasn’t afraid I would have hard conversations. I’m realizing just now how it seems my fears all come down to communication. Telling someone about my feelings for them, asking the questions whose answers I’m scared of but really need to know, saying exactly what bothers me and why. Talking in meetings where I’m the most junior person in the room. Being honest about why I disagree with my new boss’s feedback on the proposal we crafted so carefully for the Gates Foundation. Voicing my opinion on how we should go about the sustainable food systems outreach. Because I know I know better.

If I wasn’t afraid. I wonder what it would take for me not to be afraid. Does it come from within me? Or from my external environment?

When do I feel the least afraid? 

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If I wasn’t afraid – June 4 , 2024

If I wasn’t afraid I would show up more fully. In my writing, in the office, in the way I love the boys who try to hold me before I push them away.

It’s funny how those three things have been the center of my life since my teenage self discovered the power of words, became a slave to ambition, and swore to forever dream of romance but never let it in. It’s funny how they all come back to fear. It’s funny how I think about them all the time, but I never think about fear.

I don’t think I’ve ever called myself fearless. Or brave. Or whatever other synonym for it exists. I have so many good qualities, but not being afraid isn’t one of them. 

I am so afraid. Of so many things.

But I think Haley is right. And that this class did something to me that is irreversible, even if I was unable to show up fully. It made me realize how afraid I am. And how being afraid is really what holds me back.

If I wasn’t afraid I would go to Oaxaca and represent my organization at 23 years old. If I wasn’t afraid I would tell [redacted] how I feel and maybe even ask him to spend the night. If I wasn’t afraid I would write after every single art visit, even if just a paragraph. If I wasn’t afraid I would carry my notebook when it’s inconvenient. I would love myself when it’s inconvenient. I would believe in myself when it’s inconvenient.

If I wasn’t afraid, nothing would be inconvenient enough to stop me.

If I wasn’t afraid I would stop making excuses. I would put myself and my dreams and my feelings first like I always say I want to. 

God do I really wish I could stop being afraid. At least now I know.

I don’t know what to say now but I will try to keep typing because if I stop I feel like I’m going against what I’ve been saying here. 

Fear is my second worst enemy. I am my first. 

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If I wasn’t afraid – June 22, 2025

If I wasn’t afraid, I would be foolish. 

Reckless and fearless, in the pursuit of the things that light up my heart. Of the things that spark that passion in me that I am known for. Call it art, call it love, call it service. Call it my career or that gut feeling I have inside of me that has not once lied.

If I wasn’t afraid, I would let myself and my walls fall. I would let myself be held. And I would be brave enough to force myself, as hard as it is for me, to sit in the stillness of an embrace instead of running away.

If I wasn’t afraid, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes I have made over and over since I was fourteen and shook Love’s hand for the first time. I wouldn’t wait a full decade, again, to be proactive about the things that feel right. I wouldn’t let a good thing slip through my fingers simply because I’m afraid. I would only let a good thing slip through my fingers because the Universe decided that’s the way it should be.

If I wasn’t afraid I would say how I feel. And lean into it. Instead of running away.

Above all I would be foolish.

If only I wasn’t afraid.