#497 No Fear

Today I faced one of my childhood fears head on.  And I came out victorious.  Let me set the stage for you. 

I didn’t have furry pets as a kid.  I had the occasional fish and took care of the class hamster once.  My best friend the next street over had a white toy poodle named Fluffy.  Her older brother owned two large Doberman Pincers and brought them over a lot.  Fluffy was more dangerous than the Dobermans.  So even though I didn’t own dogs, I was around them enough to feel comfortable around them.  Until the day I delivered phone books. 

 

My oldest brother, David, was in high school and played the violin in the orchestra.  As a fundraising activity, the students delivered phone books to people’s homes.  I tagged along with my mom to help. 

 

All went well until I ventured into a fenced yard to place the phone book on a front porch.  I didn’t think about a dog being inside the fence.  No one warned me not to go into a fenced yard.  Halfway up the walkway, here comes the dog roaring at me from the back yard.  I screamed, probably threw the phone book down (or at the dog) and ran back to the fence gate.  Luckily I was nimble and thin.  I quickly slid my skinny self through the narrowest of gate openings and then collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk.  I managed to close the gate behind me. 

 

The dog nipped the back of my right calf just enough to break the skin and draw a little blood.  Back home, my other brother, Paul, told me I had rabies.  A police officer came by to talk to my parents and me, and said they were investigating whether the dog had all of its shots (it did). 

 

All was ok, except for several years after that I was terrified of dogs in public.  Dogs chased me on my bicycle.  A dog cornered me on a neighborhood street while wearing roller skates.  Talk about freaking out – at one point I was on one side of a bush and the dog was on the other, and we circled the bush like we were in a wild west movie.  I managed to get out of that situation unscathed and roll home. 

 

My fear subsided as I got older, but certain situations brough the fear back to the surface.  One Sunday afternoon while visiting my parents with my brothers and families, I walked my middle brother Paul’s kids to the park.  They were maybe six and eight years old.  As we walked through the neighborhood to the park, I saw a lone dog approach in the distance.  My spidey sense prickled up and I sprung into action, lifting each of them up and over a fence so they would be inside a stranger’s yard, but out of harm’s way from the dog in case it attacked.  Never mind that the yard might have had its own dog.  (We’d walked that way before and I’d never seen a dog in that yard.  That’s what I tell myself now.)  I acted calm, but they looked at me like, “Why are you putting us in these people’s yard?”  Meanwhile, the dog moseyed by paying no attention to the crazy girl tossing children over a fence.  I picked them up and put them back on my side, and we proceeded to the park.  No harm, no foul. 

 

Much time has passed since then.  I’ve been chased on my bike now and then.  I’ve emptied water bottles as they nipped at my heels.  I now have a bike route with no dogs (watch, next time there will be one).  I walk a lot in my neighborhood and have never been bothered by dogs.  Until today. 

 

I was almost home and here comes one dog I’ve seen before.  Some kind of terrier.  Harmless.  Right behind him/her, another dog that looks like a dingo (who ate my baby!).  It ran toward me (from behind) and barked.  I turned and instinctively yelled, “Stop!” and held out my hand.  It stopped for second, then continued forward, barking more.  I repeatedly yelled, “GO HOME!” in an angry tone and finally it stopped, backed up a little like it was scared of me, and retreated. 

 

The funny thing was that I didn’t feel scared.  A little alarmed, yes.  But the pit-in-my-stomach fear wasn’t there.  I think I was a bit more angry than anything.  “How dare you disturb my lovely walk?”  And as I continued on my way, I was proud of myself for coming through in the heat of battle.  I realize things could have gone the other way.  I could have encountered an aggressive dog who wasn’t scared of me.  But I didn’t.  And it worked out.  I live to walk another day. 

 

My moral?  Sometimes you can surprise yourself.  Fear is natural and healthy.  It keeps us from doing stupid things (sometimes).  But some fears are unwarranted and irrational.  Hopefully we learn to know the difference. 

 

I’ve faced many fears in my life.  Public speaking.  Dating.  Traveling by myself.  Asking a guy out first.  Going away to college.  Each time after I’ve jumped in, I look back and am thankful I took the leap.  Public speaking is not my favorite thing to do, but I’m thankful I was brave enough to share my knowledge with others.  Dating can be torturous, but once you get past the awkward beginning, it can be pretty great.  I went on several week-long bike/camping trips alone and ended up making lifelong friends who I now join yearly for more fun bike trips.  My college experience was one of the best times of my life, y’all! 

There are so many wonderful experiences I would have missed out on if I had listened to my inner irrational voice of fear.  So get out there!  Do something by yourself (safely).  Ask out that guy/girl.  You’ll never know if they’ll say yes if you don’t ask them.  And if they say no, at least you know and you can move on.  Take that class.  Enter that race.  Go to that reunion (yes, I’ve gone to high school reunions alone too – and had a blast).  Look fear in the face, put up your hand and say, “Stop!  Go Home!”  Then get out there!