Wednesday night, I hit bottom (of my Funfetti batter mixing bowl).
I had tears in my eyes as I licked my spoon clean. After throwing the bowl into the kitchen sink, I stormed back into the living room.
Boyfriend sat on the couch, looking up at me with obvious distress. I’d just spent 45 minutes raging at him about an email chain I’d received earlier in the day. My response was waaaaaaaay disproportionate to my reaction.
But that didn’t stop the emotions.
“Look, this was just ONE OF THOSE DAYS,” I said.
He nodded.
“I’m also kind of stressed because my business coach told me to do something that I don’t want to do,” I said.
He nodded.
“I told her I would do it, I was just nodding along on the phone. But on the inside I was freaking out.”
He nodded.
I felt my stomach churn, took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to bed.”
He nodded.
I’d already stripped down, doused our pillowcases in lavender spray, and climbed under the covers when Boyfriend appeared in the doorframe.
He walked over to the bed and lay down beside me before placing his hand on mine. “Sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?”
12 months ago, I would have blamed my feelings on my business coach, my inability to succeed, blah blah blah.
But now I know better.
My fear has nothing to do with my coach. It has nothing to do with my inability to perform the task she laid out with me. It certainly as nothing to do with a stupid email chain.
Fear shows up whenever we do something new outside our comfort zone. It also shows up when we decide to commit to one thing—to the exclusion of something else.
If I followed my coach’s advice, I’d commit to putting myself out in to the world in a big way. And yes, that can be scary.
But was it really scary enough to make me physically torn up, weepy, and ready to scream?
No.
This was something bigger.
After a year of studying my own bursts of vivid emotion, I understand what’s really going on.
When my reaction is disproportionate to the subject that triggers it, I’ve hit a vein of hurt and fear in a deep, often subconscious place.
I believe each one of us feels two kinds of fear:
Type 1: Mild Fear (AKA Resistance)
The first type of fear seizes us when we’ve got to do something new, and it makes us mildly uncomfortable.
It feels like the kind of physical resistance you encounter a hardcore, sweat-fest workout.
You know how, when you’re pedaling heavy and fast in spin class or really sinking into pigeon pose, your brain starts to say “ow ow ow for crying out loud STOP!”
That’s the first kind of pain. You’re gently outgrowing your current limits. Easing your way into a new level of mastery.
What to do about it:
Reach for outside tools and inspiration. Set a timer and commit to practicing your speech just once.
Or you can self-coach. Yes, you CAN push those pedals for another 30 seconds. You can do anything for 30 seconds.
Type 2: Wild Fear (AKA Cry for Help)
The second type of fear usually follows a pattern, but it can be really hard to see that in the moment.
Most times, this type of fear feels like it blasts in out of nowhere.
You’ll be bopping along in your day when you get confronted by a new idea or the need to do something just a litttle outside your comfort zone. And then…BLAM! It’s like you stepped on a land mine when you thought you were walking through a meadow full of flowers.
You’ll know you’re in a place of wild fear when you want to cry or scream or punch someone. If you want to crawl into a hole or under the covers and disappear. If your stomach literally twists up in knots.
The physicality of this fear is unmistakable. You feel viscerally shaken. You can’t breathe normally, and you have trouble focusing.
The more you try to “outsmart” this type of fear, the more wild and frustrated you will feel.
Because a deep, subconscious part of you is crying out for help—and instead of listening, you’re trying to shove it away.
What to do about it:
When you feel like this, do NOT berate yourself for being crazy or lazy or overly sensitive.
(I’ve tried this tactic about 9,000,000 times. Trust me, it doesn’t work.)
Instead, simply recognize the fear for what it is: A cry for help from a fundamental part of your psyche.
If you can, pull out your journal and write about how you feel. Put down every icky, nasty thought you’re having. And try to include a description of what triggered you.
Then do something else. Watch a movie. Go for a walk or to the gym. Do something to distract yourself and get you out of your head. You can also take a nap.
Treat yourself with kindness and do something that brings you pleasure. Later, when you’ve calmed down, you can go back to your notes and decide what you’d like to do.
You can dialogue with your fear—literally talk out loud to it and ask what message it wants to tell you. You can connect with a healer or anyone who will hold the space for you to explore your own deep needs.
It may be that the thing you were about to undertake is totally wrong for you. Or it might be that you need to do some healing before you can do it. Or you might discover that you’re indeed ready—you just needed to acknowledge the fear and give it room to speak.
These days, I try to say thank you to my fear.
After all, our fears just want to protect us. They show us love in the only way they know how.
So maybe, just maybe, we can learn to love them back.
Instead of foaming at the mouth on Wednesday night, I asked Boyfriend to tell me what scares him most.
“Being unprepared for meetings at work,” he said.
“That’s not what I mean. What scares you physically?”
His brow furrowed. “Heights, I think.”
“Really?” (I had no idea. Chalk up the girlfriend points.)
He nodded. “My palms are sweating just talking about it.”
“How does it make you feel?”
“Like I’m frozen. I refuse to climb any further up.”
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s exactly how I feel right now. Whenever I get ready to put myself and my message out there in a big way, I hit a feeling like this.”
“Sweetheart.” He looked at me and wiped his hands on the blanket. “If it makes you feel this uncomfortable, why do you continue to do it?”
I took a deep breath. “Because I have to. This is my path. I just know it. And even though it’s scary… I need to feel the fear so I can move forward and actually live my purpose on this planet.”
He looked at me, unconvinced.
“Imagine that you know your soul’s greatest desire waits at the top of the mountain,” I said. “Right now, you might be terrified, but will you refuse to climb?”
That’s the question we need ask ourselves again and again on this entrepreneurial journey. What are we willing to do for the dream? Are we willing to face our fears and actually open our arms?
Today I know that I am giving it everything I have.
Are you?
