I’ve stood a lot of places struck with fear. So debilitating that I could not move. I wonder how many times I’ve been paralyzed like that, in my life. How many times I’ve been unable to move or wide-eyed with a blank mind.

But those moments, the dozen times I’ve stood on cliffs or high dives or wrapped up in waves, they are so easy to identify. We know that feeling because it’s sudden and foreign and our heart quickens so much we can feel it.

Those aren’t our most dangerous moments though. It’s that small quiet fear that entered without you noticing. At one point somewhere, we bought into a lie. And then, just a little bit over time it grows and roots and we don’t notice it. By the time we catch a glimpse of what seems like a tiny fear in us, we just believe it’s a part of who we are, our personality, or just a quirk.

Because we never felt it with a rush. That’s why it’s dangerous, because it was hidden our whole lives, controlling us quietly. And quiet is the best place for fear to be.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.