on fear and stickiness.

Isn’t this a cool piece of art?

Eric got it for me a couple of years ago and I just love it.

That has always been my "mantra." (well, technically, I’m not really sure what a mantra is, but I know it’s a form of self-talk, so just go with me on this one. =D)

"I am Fearless."

Okay. It’s not really true.

Or at least it wasn’t.

I remember the catechism of fear that I learned early on:

• "Don’t talk to anyone." 
• "Just keep smiling."
• "Try not to be noticed."
• "Don’t cry."
• Do what you’re told."

I know those sound bites could be from any mother to any child, and they are pretty innocuous, but when you put them into their original context, the meaning drastically changes.

When you are a five-year-old walking towards an airplane guarded by bearded, military, machine-gun toting personnel, the words become Life or Death.

And they stick. They stick in the stickiest life-defining form.

And so I carried the fear with me everywhere I went, even though I knew I was safe here on U.S. soil and within the arms of my amazing family.
But I started saying this about myself:  "I am fearless."

And somehow, those words have been sticky and life-defining, too.

Because I learned that it takes a lot of courage to face the things you are genuinely afraid of.

So, really, I’m still kind of a whiner-baby and scaredy-cat on the INSIDE.

But on the OUTSIDE: 

"I  (really) AM FEARLESS."