Inside/Out: The Cure

     I was invited to a special academy to learn about their program, something for gifted people. A couple of my friends were invited too. We went and grouped together on the front of the campus. Vivid green grass looked electrified. On top of it sat three stone buildings. When someone says the word "academy" these were the kind of buildings people imagined. Old, historic, and a little ominous. Our tour guide, an older gentleman with a knack for loose white shirts and khakis, led us barefoot over the grass. We came up to three skinny, parallel pools. They were tiled and each had a bridge through the center. We had to cross them to reach the academy. I went to cross it, making each step carefully, determined not to fall. I didn't want to be a splash in the clear, pristine water, even though I'm an adequate swimmer, so I started to crawl. Fear gripped around my entire being. I froze in place.
    The barefooted, khaki wearing man walked up to me with something in his hand. He crouched down in front of me. "What if there was something to eradicate what holds you back, what keeps you from being your very best." He opens his hand, and in it is a pill. I reach for it. As I touch it, I am transported into a dream of what I could be. I see myself successful and happy and strong. I see myself being what I only imagine myself being. For me, the pill would eradicate insecurities. The man doesn't tell me that, but I know that's what holds me back. Now I have to live with knowing what keeps me from succeeding to my full potential and knowing there is something to cure what I never realized was a disease.


 
   My greatest fear: my own insecurities. They even invade the content of my dreams. To do anything I fight against myself. It's like living with my own greatest enemy in my head. Convincing myself that the goal I'm getting to is failure. I'm not talented. I won't reach any form of success in what I dream of doing. Dreams are only dreams. I should settle for less because at least I know can reach less.
    Every blog post is a victory over that feeling. Blogging has been therapeutic in that it keeps me doing and creating. A week doesn't go buy that I don't write or photograph. A month doesn't go buy that I don't create something as a tutorial. I'm coming to terms with my insecurities and realizing that they can actually be helpful at times. While they can make me second guess, they also allow me to be cautious. They give me time to think and make decisions. Right now, I think some of that cautiousness is too much, but I'm beginning to allow myself to dial back those feelings.
    Insecurity can be a fort from other people too. I can ensconce myself in crushed hopes and dreams and pretend I don't connect with people because they don't care, they don't try. But I'm not allowing the bridge down over the moat. I want people to fight the tiger sharks in the water to get to the inside. But that is ridiculously unfair. I can be the super cool one that blows up the fort and has tiger sharks as domesticated pets. I can set myself free. I can save myself. It's a challenge, no doubt. But it's a challenge that I think I actually enjoy. Proving myself wrong, or at least a part of myself, feels great. Because of that, I don't think I could take the pill. Success without challenges doesn't seem like success to me. In the process, I'm beginning to find a greater and more substantial appreciation for connection with people. I have my insecurities and fears to thank.



Comments

  1. This is a beautiful interpretation of how every little success is a milestone.
    Acting on passions and interests without giving up makes it impossible to fail. I think failing means never giving yourself a shot in the first place. Lovely post!
    -Alyssa

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