Confessions of a fear-aholic.

Oh dear friends, this is a hard one to write, because not to brag, but I am really good at hiding away the parts of me that I don’t like.

Never mind what you might think of them, but I don’t even like the sight of them. And I am working on this, loving all the parts of me…. like all the parts, even the ones I don’t even acknowledge are there.  I mean if we were to all be real honest here, don’t we all have those pieces, the parts that we try to keep under wraps or at least tamed enough that they don’t annoy us or embarrass us.

The pieces that speak too much. Lose their temper. Put down others. Think horrible thoughts. Are resentful. Are mean. Are bitter. The you that complains. Beats yourself up. Feels something was her fault or his fault. The piece you think is ugly. Detestable. Loathsome.

So I have been working on embracing and understanding the parts of myself that I am not too proud of and right now, fear tops the list.

Fear.  Fear of getting sick, to be exact.

Fear. It sounds so weak doesn’t it? And so irrational at times. It’s like we want to tell ourselves to snap out of it and stop being so ridiculous, right?  And we somehow think that we are not trusting God enough because if we did we wouldn’t be worrying so much?

And sometimes we think it has gone away or died down, but eventually it comes back.

Oh, my gosh, my throat hurts and it’s not going away. What if this is something much bigger… 

Wham.. Bammm

There it is. It’s back again. Totally fearful.

I might not say it out loud, but I feel it. I hear it. And of course these pieces return because until we begin to move towards, not away from, the parts of ourselves we have tried so desperately to cast aside- forget- pretend that they aren’t even there, they will continue to surface and resurface.

So, yes. I hate that I get fearful at times, but I am starting to embrace this- care for it- understand it. I use statements like “Of course I understand why I feel this way…. What are you so afraid of, dear one, share with me…” (yes, I talk to myself this way, weird, I know) and then I give myself room to hear.

I give this piece empathy and compassion rather than shaming these thoughts and trying to suppress them.  Funny when I do this, it takes so much of the power out of the fear.

It deflates as I soften. I soften….

I wonder, dear sisters, what parts you hide? I wonder, dear misters, what parts you have abandoned long ago? I wonder, dear friends, what parts of you are needing to be accepted back in and understood and cared for, once again.

One thought on “Confessions of a fear-aholic.

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