Do it scared

Tim Trad - Unsplash

Word on the street is that you blame me for everything.

You’re counting all the things you didn’t achieve and you’re blaming me for not achieving them. ME? Where is your accountability?

All I ever did was come in when you let me. I never forced myself in, did I? No, answer me. Did I?

“I wish I didn’t let you into my life.” “I wish I didn’t believe all the things you told me. I wish I didn’t let them get to my head.”

Well, you did. Yes, I may have ruined things for you but you let it happen so stop making me the bad guy here.

I remember the first time we met.

I used to watch you from across the street. Always bobbing around without a care in the world. I must admit, I was a bit jealous, ‘cause how were you so smart and confident at such a young age?

Anyway, I saw my jealousy as unnecessary because I figured my perfect time to get into your life would come soon enough. But boy, did you put up a fight. You didn’t let me in when kids your age usually would.

You always made me feel foolish for trying to talk to you. Anytime I tried to say hi, you looked at me with disgust. So I decided to wait for someone to properly introduce us. And one day, when you were a little bit older, someone did. Our first meet cute.

The next order of events was meant to be easy: Get closer to you, find out your dreams and discourage you from achieving them. But you shut me out for so long. You never told me anything you were up to because I didn’t matter to you. At least, not yet.

Then some years later, when you were 16, something in you shifted. You got overwhelmed and felt like you were alone in the world with no one to talk to so you finally remembered me. I was elated—a bit mad because you abandoned me for so long, but elated either way—because my time had finally come. You told me a lot that day; your big ideas and aspirations and your plans to achieve them all. Cute, but of course I told you they were too much. Too unachievable, a stretch, nothing but a bogus dream.

Surprisingly, you didn’t take me seriously. You gave me some shit along the lines of “Why would God put a dream in my heart if it wasn’t meant to come true?” Your resolve was strong. It was as if all my efforts just made you want your dreams even more. Booooring.

I tried to destroy your plans a couple more times before I gave up. How was it possible that you believed me a little more each time, but still didn’t lose touch with your goals? Me I didn’t have time to wait around for your breaking point, sha. I had other self-doubting people to attend to. So I gave up on you. Very off-brand of me, I know. But when you notice you’re not welcome somewhere will you stay? I just left you alone and found someone else to bother.

You were 21 when you found me again. The world had taught you to be scared of your potential. So scared that you never even tried to harness it. You sold yourself short and convinced yourself that you needed me leading the way. So you searched for me and you found me. It didn’t take much to make me come back. I mean, who wouldn’t? The world would crumble beneath the kind of potential you possessed and I couldn’t let that happen. I should be the star of the show, not you.

So I taught you to believe you would fail before you even started and to place other people’s opinions before your own. You started getting comfortable with having me in your corner. We had a bond. Or at least I thought we did. Clearly, I was wrong because next thing I know, you’re blaming me for everything that went wrong.

This is why I can’t stand humans, omg. I leave you alone, and you come looking for me. I come back and now I’m the villain???

I left you alone because I was in awe of you, for goodness sake. I saw you as someone strong and untouchable. Matter of fact, I think I was a little scared of you. And that’s rare considering who I am. I was scared of that confident little girl without a care in the world. The one who would make documentaries of daddy’s birthday and mummy’s first time making a dream cake. The girl who put on roller skates even when they told her she would injure. The one who looked me dead in the eyes and did whatever she wanted anyway. Where is she? Where is that confident little girl?

Anyway, back to the point of why I’m writing to you. We’re clearly not on the same page anymore and I hate false accusations so let me tell you how this is going to go. I’m giving you one last chance to bid me farewell for good as I would rather be in a place where I’m wanted 100% than in a place where there’s so much confusion.

Stop moping around and take your life back. Put all that potential to use. And stop with the whole victim act. We both know I could never stop you anyway. You’re the one stopping yourself.

Good luck in your new life without me.

Your biggest opp,
Fear.