Be Fearless

March 21, 2012

I’ve been a little MIA and I’m a little behind on my Project 365 so I am playing catch-up.

This is my weekly series on the inspirational messages I discovered on the arms of benches at a school recently.

Let me start by saying I’m not exactly a big fan of the American Idol country singer who crooned a song about Fearless. She just doesn’t resonate with me. I definitely do not like her mixed metaphors and something about her voice … anyway, here is my take on the topic.

Be Fearless.

Be Fearless, Copyright SnipeWife

I will admit I fear many things. Some rational, others not. Some big, some small. I’m currently worried my drug protocol of Enbrel and MTX is just one day going to stop working. I’m worried that my children will be ill-equipped to live on their own. (Okay, who am I kidding? I’m actually worried my children will put a kibosh on all my “retirement” plans with DH and have to move back home because they’ve gotten useless degrees in art history or community organizing. I’m selfish like that.)

I would like to say I do not let my fears rule me but I developed panic attacks last year, out of fear of what others thought of me and if there was some truth to the words used to attack me. I believe the stress of it contributed to the development of my psoriatic arthritis (PsA).

I fear disease. I’ve stated before the frustration of developing a chronic condition while I was working out trying to get healthy to stave off other illnesses. Now training is an absolute necessity.

Much of these fears are things I can’t or couldn’t control. But it is how I choose to deal with them that makes me fearless. I tackled my panic attacks head-on. I built a support group and took the necessary steps to begin healing. Do I still have them? Yes–like last week when Crook started limping. Please not again! I said over and over again until I could get her in for x-rays. Thankfully it is just arthritis. This I can deal with. I no longer have panic attacks while substituting. That’s huge for me.

Rather than giving up on training, saying “what’s the point?”, I am still going. I am still trying to get back to where I was in April of last year. I have ways to go but I will get there. It takes a certain amount of fearlessness to face the pain of working out and to bench press that 110 lbs. above your chest and trust your trainer is doing his job of spotting you!

I fear regret. I hope I live a life of good choices. The key word there is LIVE. Some can be so paralyzed by the fear of making a mistake and therefore having regret that they can do nothing and live no life at all. I do try to be conscientious and weigh my options carefully. I live with a filter (most of the time). If I do make a mistake I want to be given the chance to make amends–I cannot stand when someone walks away without any explanation, giving me no clue especially when I would gladly bend over backwards to help, be it with my own explanation, an apology, or a change.

But I do not want to live my life with “what ifs” and I do not want to wallow in the regret of not having done something. If I have chosen not to do something or it just was never meant to be, what is the point of sighing, “if only…” And I do not want to impress upon anyone else, especially my children, any fears or regrets. I want my girls to see that I have lived my life–particularly important for them to see I have PsA but it does not have me.

I have been my own person with my own path most of my life. The only regret I have comes from putting someone else’s fears and regrets ahead of me. Putting someone else first is not necessarily a bad thing. It is a choice I made just as it is a choice to accept the consequences gracefully. I was later blessed with an alternative but I only think “what if” in terms of my children–would I make sure they always lived without fear and regrets, even if it causes me to have a panic attack to let them go?

I have tried to face things that make me uncomfortable head on, to be an example to the girls that they do not have to have fears. My siblings and I have been talking with my mother about our perceptions of her–and all three of us used the same catch phrases and she seemed surprised by this. I wonder what my girls will say–hard, dedicated, harsh, a yeller… okay, I’m probably all those things. But what I want to really hear is that they see me as strong and fearless.

I worried when they were babies that I would be too removed, too strong and our relationships would suffer. DH reminds me often “The girls love you more than me, you just don’t see it.” I hope they see my love for them in my actions of being soccer coach, room mom, troop leader, Sunday school teacher and chauffeur for 18 years… I hope they also see it when I don’t go in to the teacher and demand the teacher give my sweet angel extra credit assignments to make up for the homework not turned in. I know it doesn’t give them the warm fuzzies now, but when they are strong, independent, and fearless later on I hope they realize it took a lot of self-control to go against my mothering instincts.

If you’d like to write on the topic of Be Fearless and would like to have it linked here, just send me the link and a comment and I’ll get us hooked up. Go on! Be Fearless!

P.S. Does anyone else find it funny that I’m telling you to be fearless when I’m still anonymous to most of my friends and family? HAHAHA!

3/22/12 While this isn’t exactly on the topic of Be Fearless, check out Woulda Coulda Shoulda by Tough Motivation.


One comment

  1. […] Be Fearless […]

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