I’m afraid I’ll never amount to anything. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop comparing myself to others. I know I have more than most, and I’m truly, truly grateful for it all. But I can’t help but look around me and feel like I should be somewhere else. I never imagined myself here because I always I would be somewhere else by now. I imagined more for myself. And I’m afraid I’m falling short.
I’m afraid of forever being a shadow of who I think I should be.
I used to be afraid of failure. I don’t think I am anymore. I’ve failed too many times now to still be afraid. I’ve sort of embraced it, I think. I’ve learned a lot from failure. I think I’m beginning to fear never failing again, because what would I learn if I don’t?
I’m still afraid of spiders. Too many legs. Gives me the creeps.
I’m afraid of worrying too much. And I’m afraid I can’t help being afraid. I’m afraid of people sometimes. Most of the time. Of the kinds of things people can do to other people. Terrible things, and unspeakable things. Sometimes, when I remember that I’m also people, I’m afraid of myself too.
I’m afraid of Jesse Eisenberg actually playing a good Lex Luther. It doesn’t make sense to me either.
I’m afraid America might elect the worst person after Hitler to be its leader for the next four years. I’m afraid for all of us. I’m afraid of war. I’m afraid of the screams, the bombs, the fires. We’ve lost too many lives, too many cities. Too many olive trees.
I’m afraid love will never last long enough and words will never mean enough and that everything will come to its respective end before I get a chance to truly appreciate them for what they were and I’m afraid of stopping sometimes because I’m afraid if I stop I’ll never be able to start again and that it will suddenly be the end before it’s actually supposed to be and god this sentence needs some punctuation just about now.
I’m afraid I’ll never be sorry enough.
I’m afraid I’m wasting my youth worrying about work and paying bills. I’m afraid I’ll be stuck in one place for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t mind it so much if it’s one place that I truly love, but I’m afraid it might not be.
I’m afraid of can openers. Not really, but yes sort of. Don’t tell anybody.
I’m afraid of watching my parents grow old. I’m afraid of not being able to support them and offer them comfort when they need it most. What kind of son would I be if I couldn’t?
I’m afraid I’m wasting my time. I’m afraid I’m wasting my dreams and an expensive education. I’m afraid I’ll never get to actually teach in my life. And that if I do, I may just be the worst teacher ever. But every night I think of how my first day might be, how I might trick my first ever class into thinking I’m a student by sitting in the back with a hoody on, or stumbling in after the bell and pretending to be a substitute. I’m afraid I can’t decide which one I’ll go with, if any at all.
I’m afraid of Lady Gaga’s outfits. I think this one is justified.
I’m afraid of global warming and watching my home country drown with a hundred and eighty million people residing in it. I’m afraid of the wealthy and their complete disregard for the rest of humanity. I’m afraid of the polar caps melting and changing world weather patterns and potentially wiping out important species of plants and animals in the process. I’m afraid not enough people care about our ecosystem and that it will cost us and future generations dearly.
I’m afraid of inflation. I recently noticed that the chocolate covered almonds I love to treat myself to every once in a while has gone up by an entire dollar at the market, and I feel so threatened by this. I know this is the least of my worries but I feel like those chocolate almonds were one of the few things that helped preserve the kid in me.
I’m afraid I’ll always be afraid of some things. I know we can’t plan for everything. And as much as I hate phrases like “life has other plans” and “shit happens,” it’s true. Life does have other plans. And shit does happen.
I’m afraid I’ll just have to make the best of it all and keep fighting so long as I have some fight left in me.
This post originated here. Republished with permission.