My six-year-old daughter, Juniper, ebbs and flows with fear. Sometimes she is fine, fiercely independent. Other times, she is scared to be alone, needing someone to stand outside the bathroom door while she is in there.
As you might imagine, she usually needs to pee at exactly the moment when I am on the phone, have two pots on the stove, and have just stepped in dog barf. I go to her—I help—but I also want to dig into it. What is it that you are so afraid of?!
It turns out she is scared of the windows. The unknown in the dark outside. Anything could be out there.
She’s not wrong. Anything could be out there: bears, robbers, hurricanes. Why aren’t we all scared of dark windows? Because life has taught us that while scary things could be out there, they usually aren’t.
But lately, post-hurricane and with the state of the world as it is, I find myself staring at my own dark window.
The unknown future presses in, and sometimes I can’t breathe. Anything could be coming.
Taking a page from Juniper’s book, I’ve decided to ask for help. When the fear feels overwhelming, I am asking people to stand at the bathroom door for me.
Community. Friends. Family. They all feel vital right now.
I’m swapping the “I’m okay, it’s all going to be okay” mask for the truth: I don’t know if it’s going to be okay. I’m scared and sad. And I’m choosing love.
I have always been a ceiling-holder-upper, the person who hates to bother people with my problems and feelings. When Juniper jumps into my chaos to ask me to pause everything and stand at the bathroom door, I do it—because I love her. Helping her through her fear is more important than burning dinner or even dog barf.
I am working to let my people love me like that too. They’re busy—of course they are! We are all always busy. They all have their own struggles. But they’ll pause and stand with me in my fear and sadness because they love me. That doesn’t make me weak or a burden—it makes our love strong.
Who stands with you?
Who are your people? The ones you call when fear presses in, when the dark windows feel overwhelming. They might be busy, but they will come if you ask.
I’ll come too.
What makes you vulnerable makes you beautiful. – Brene Brown
We are stronger in the places we’ve been broken—especially when we let others help us heal. – Ernest Hemingway
Recent Comments