Fiction

The Fear That Stopped Me Has Left Me Now

In my previous post I told you about the workshop.  Here I will tell you how it felt to be there.

It was cold and rainy that day.  I didn’t mind.  The door was locked when I got there.  That’s okay, they’ll open it soon, and they did.  I have a partial hearing loss and had to change my seat so I could hear.  That’s okay.  And when it was over and I went out to my car, I had a parking ticket and I just laughed.

Because of what it felt like to be brave enough to be there.  To finally be where I belonged and to be wide open to the truth of it.

Years ago I signed up for an acting workshop that I wanted to go to so much but when the day came, I didn’t go.  I told myself it was stupid — what was I going to do, move to New York, become an actor?  That’s dumb.  I did not even know it was fear that stopped me.

Because I was afraid — in my soul — I was afraid.  I must have learned to be afraid to be who I am.

I have been very brave in my life.  I have faced down dangerous people twice my size.  I have been the one others hide behind, and I am only 5’4”.

But I never dared to do this.  To be a writer, say it out loud, spend my days doing the thing I wanted more than anything and that I might just have a knack for.  To lay my soul at the feet of someone who is already doing what I wish I had started years ago and say please tell me what you know.

To sit in a group of people and hear myself say, “I am writing a novel,” and no longer hear that voice that says, “Sure you are.”

Going to this class was another step, as is this blog, to getting myself to believe myself when I say I am a writer.  And I always have been.

Since I have made writing my daily work, I have forgotten to be afraid.

© Margaret Grant and magoffleash, 2012-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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