Fear is a Curable Disease.

Fear is a disease.

Fear is a curable disease; you have to cure it, yourself.

Those who have recovered from cancer, or alcoholism, or drug addiction, they celebrate their milestones: 30 days sober, 5 years in remission.

Well, I’d like to celebrate, too.

Today I leave for Nicaragua with my girls. There’s nothing but excitement in my bones, however, eight years ago if you told me I was flying to Nicaragua, I’d pull a Houdini.

I’d be crippled by a debilitating fear so severe, I’d be unable to board the plane. Instead, I’d hide in my house, clean obsessively, and pretend the proposition of an adventurous trip was never offered; that’s how sick I was.

I didn’t fly for seven years and then something happened: I became a mother.

I refused to infect my daughters with my disease, so I admitted I had a problem, I went for help and I committed to healing.

Almost four years ago, I gave a TEDx Talk about overcoming my fear. The talk was inspired by one of my daughters, who was singing a Mother Goose nursery rhyme as I was contemplating what I would speak about–

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,
Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.

I thought: then what happens?

Humpty’s brokenness is just the beginning. So, I added to her rhyme and then I told my story in front of an audience–

Humpty cried, 
Humpty screamed.
Humpty wallowed, 
And then-
Humpty dreamed.
Humpty discovered what only Humpty could see,
Now, he could be anything he desired to be.

I think back to four years ago; I feel like I’ve lived four decades since then, a lot has changed.

I’ve grown even stronger in my confidence: I can do anything and be anything I desire to be. That doesn’t mean I think I’m invincible.

I still get scared, often.

Being scared is healthy: it’s not only a survival mechanism; it’s also a sign, that I’m living, that I’m falling into life and experiencing it fully.

Today, I’m celebrating my remission and my sobriety: eight years ago next month, while I was in recovery, I took my daughters on my first flight after a 7-year hiatus.

I was terrified, shaking as I held my newborn baby in one arm and my other baby’s hand in the other, but I refused to stay broken, for their sake and mine. I vowed to show them the world one day and I’ve kept that vow.

Here we come, Nicaragua. ~Rebecca


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