We spend an inordinate amount of time rejecting, denying, avoiding and skirting our fears. We’ll down-play them to people around us to seem bigger, or we take the other route and hype them up to attempt to dissuade being subjected to them – our seriousness potentially saving us from the risk of a prank, for example. Fear pricks our resolution and buries our resolve.

The metallic taste lingers on our tongues, betraying our better judgments. Fear of failure, of rejection, of death. Lives are lived in the shadow of what could harm us or abuse our prides. Embarrassment alone can ruin us at times.

We need the fear though. We need the goosebumps, the anxiety and the cold that grips the pit of our stomachs. It pushes us, and accompanies us on our greatest achievements. It’s the nagging teacher that forces you up to the black board in front of the class. A silent promise of living in learning.

I hold my fears close. I respect them. I adore them. Each blunder, accomplishment and possibility has been tinged with fear. Sometimes I’m drenched in it, and sometimes I can sit quietly and let it seep through me with indifference. A companion that challenges me; sometimes with malice, but more often with content. I embrace them because they are a part of me that can promise the best of who I am.

I hold my fears close. I respect them. I adore them.

Cheers to a year of keeping track.