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Overcoming Fear

Well hiya! Long time, no talk. I know, I know. This summer has been much busier than I originally expected with summer classes and whatnot, and I am just now finding the time and inspiration to work on my blog again.

The piece down below is actually a short creative story that I wrote as a final project for my Intro to Inspirational Writing class (I'm a Writing major now, not sure if I've mentioned that on here before!). Anyway, I got a good grade on the paper and although I do not think it's perfect (it'll never be perfect), I am proud of what I wrote. Parts of it are true, and parts of it are more fictionalized, but I was super excited to have the opportunity to write this story and now share it with people! I hope y'all enjoy. ❤ 

Blinding lights flash from the high ceiling of the church. I bite my cheek as I sit on stage facing a crowd of five hundred people. Everyone is definitely staring at me, I think, and being the center of attention was not something I enjoyed at all. I try not to fidget constantly, but I feel ridiculous in my navy-blue graduation cap. The binding is too tight and crinkles against my forehead, flattening my hair and turning my head into the shape of an egg.

My heart races and my knees wobble as I make my way toward the podium at the front of the stage, where I will give my speech. Public speaking has never been a strong suit of mine, and fear flows through my body as I realize I have not been this nervous in years. 

I stepped into the hallway of my new elementary school with sweaty palms and shaking legs. My feet moved of their own accord, dragging my body with them. From brick painted walls hung backpacks and gym shoes, and other kids were running up and down the hallway, seemingly excited about starting school. What was wrong with them? Homeschooling was all I had ever known, and in this moment, I would’ve given anything to be at home in my pajamas, watching television as I casually worked on some math or reading assignments. My school days had always been completed by noon, and the rest of my time was spent having fun around the house.

Ah, what a life I had lived.

And oh, I was going to die at this school.

 Someone placed a hand on my shoulder, and I turned my head to look into my mother’s kind eyes. She smiled down at me.

“You’re going to be just fine,” she said as I immediately blinked back tears that had begun to form under my eyelids. My mom had always been my teacher, my favorite teacher, and she was about to be replaced.

I nodded along, pretending to listen to her, the only thoughts that filled my head being ideas of horror and nightmares. Why did I even have to be here anyway? What was wrong with staying at home with Mom as my teacher? And four hour versus seven hour school days? What I would give to be at home right now, still sleeping.

 “This is going to be so good for you, Ry,” Mom finished. “You are going to learn so much and make great friends. Time is going to fly! You will be fine.”

I shook my head and inhaled, taking the biggest breath of my life, as I gave my mom a final hug before the time came to head toward my new reality. Rotating on her heel, she slowly walked away toward the exit, waving goodbye, and I was left on my own for the first time.

I entered the classroom.


My hands come to a rest on the podium as I begin my speech. Words I don’t remember anymore flow from my mouth as I say something about the importance of academics in the lives of young people. After hours of rehearsal and practice in front of the mirror in my bedroom, my diction is clear and understandable, and I smile near the end of the speech as I realize I have probably never spoken this precisely and slowly in my entire life. I imagine my parents and other family members sitting in the audience, shocked that it was even possible for me to talk this well in front of hundreds of people. Eventually, enthusiastic applause ensues, and I walk back to my seat in a daze, suddenly finding a confidence in myself that I have never felt before.

I glance over my shoulder and into the eyes of my best friend as I sit back down in the front row of seats on the stage, and I smile softly at her. She grins back, giving me a thumbs up. I make a weird face by scrunching my nose and sticking my tongue out, distracting her from whoever started speaking after me. She rolls her eyes at me but laughs softly. I turn back around to face the audience and squint into the spotlights.

My head slammed against the window as I woke up from my short nap on a crowded bus of twenty-four high school teenagers and adults. The bus jostled as we rode down a bumpy, twisting road in the prominent hills of Costa Rica. Everyone chattered about the day’s coming adventure, but not me. I stared out the window, frozen in fear and thought about how today could very well be the day I died. I told myself to calm down, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. I couldn’t think straight. I hated heights, and in a few hours, I would be ziplining through the mountains, hundreds of feet off the ground. I kept my thoughts to myself as I silently looked out the window, trying to wait patiently for the bus to arrive at its destination.

After what felt like days, the bus finally rolled up to a ziplining post sitting under a vast canopy of trees. I stepped out of the bus, feeling the heat instantly burn my face. Sun shined through the leaves of the jungle trees and radiated my skin. I grabbed a bottle of sunscreen from my backpack and applied it, hoping to keep sunburns at a minimum. I sniffed the air— a scent of plants and rainwater hit my nose.

I glanced around, and my fear doubled as I noticed all of the gear lined u
p on nearby racks—gear that we would have to carry with us throughout the day. Helmets, vests, ropes, hooks, and so many other pieces stood out in piles. I slowly followed everyone else who had already made their way over to the gear. Hats on, vests on, ropes on, we made sure that everything was securely attached. We hopped into the large backs of flatbed trucks and drove through the jungle to a drop-off point where we were to begin our adventures. I held a steady breathing pattern and willed myself to stay calm as we trekked up a steep and slippery path.

As we walked through the various trails leading to our destination, I turned around to face my best friend on the trip. She gave me an encouraging thumbs up along with a big smile. I started to grin back, appreciating the support, until my heart immediately dropped out of my chest as the people in front of me stopped walking. I glanced to the front of the line. Creeping up into the sky, a rope ladder stood against a towering tree, waiting for us to climb. I breathed in the sticky jungle air and shuddered. I had wondered if the day could get any worse, right? Well, it did.

I swallowed my fear anyway and stood in line, waiting to ascend the ladder. I wasn’t going to let my fear of heights stop me from ziplining. I braced myself in front of the ladder when my turn came and squinted up into the sunlight.

“You’ve got this,” my friend whispered. I nodded.

I could do this.

I could do this.

I couldn’t do this.

My hands reached for the rungs, and I climbed even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t let myself look down. I focused solely on getting to the top of the ladder and stepping onto the platform. Immediately, I froze in awestruck wonder. Vivid green trees, colorful birds, deep valleys, and grand mountains stood out in front of me. My mind couldn’t fully comprehend the sight. Sunlight glittered over shiny leaves and mountaintops, illuminating everything in its reach. The world in front me sparkled brightly. My fear evaporated in an instant, and I broke out into a huge grin. As I stood on top of the creaky wooden platform, I felt free. I was free. In God’s creation, I am free.


Someone whispers my name, and I suddenly realize that while all my classmates were standing up, following the directions of the school’s principle, I am still sitting in my seat.

I quickly stand with them, shaking myself from my reverie, and pay attention again as he continues speaking into a microphone. My heart hurts as I realize I would probably never get the chance to go to Costa Rica again, but I push the thought away for the time being.

“Graduates of the Class of 2019, please move the tassel on your cap from the right side of your head to the left.”

Time slows down as thirty-eight people on the stage lift their arms and move the tassels on their caps. Shouts raise up across the room as we are congratulated and applauded for, and I hug the person next me, laughing in joy. We did it. We were done. Years of happiness, stress, frustration, and uncertainty had come to a close. The terror that had filled me on so many occasions felt silly in this moment. There was no reason to have ever been scared out of my mind about attending school. Thirty-eight strangers had become thirty-eight friends, and the adventures we experienced together were numerous. As we pull off our caps and throw them into the air, I realize I would never trade this experience for anything- not even to be back in my pajamas at home as the nervous homeschooler I used to be.

*Annnnnnndddd close the curtain!* The end.

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Here's a thumbs up from me because I am proud of you! Okay, goodnight.

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