What are you most afraid of? Slowly but surely I have faced most of my fears. For the longest my greatest fear was falling down a flight of steps. In the back of my mind I would always fear tripping while walking in a pair of heels. Earlier this year my greatest fear came true when I fell down a flight of stairs at work. Fortunately I walked away with a bruised knee and greater faith that God protects me at all times. But last week as I was writing my latest article for All Women Stalk by the pool I remembered that I have a much older fear than falling down a flight of stairs.
I’m not too fond of water.
I love to drink it. I love to look at it outside of the window (or poolside) as I write. But forget about putting my head under it. When I was really little, around the age of 3, I nearly drowned at daycare. I didn’t know how to swim but all of the children were taken to the pool because it was summer. An older child, who must have been around the age of 6, thought it would be funny to shove me into the deep end. And down I went. I remember kicking and waving all of my limbs in all directions as I continued to sink. I remember the breathing in water through my nostrils and my mouth. I don’t remember who pulled me out or how long it took. I do remember walking away from the experience equating water to danger.
My mom made sure that my little brother and I had swimming lessons when I was around 7. My brother was a total natural by the end and I could swim from point A to point B but never learned how to tread, dive, or any other kind of movement that meant fully embracing the water. Why am I writing about this? I don’t know. I guess I’m just ready to face my oldest fear head on so I can see what’s waiting on the other side of it.
Oh, but after I face that I will have to face my second oldest fear, singing.
What are you most afraid of?