my fears don’t control me

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May 26, 2019

I didn’t realize how afraid I would be to launch this blog. 

When I launched my first blog, I had no idea what I was doing and had zero expectations, so I wasn’t afraid. I uploaded and shared my first article without a problem. This time, however, I know what I want, and I know what’s possible, so the idea of fucking up frightens me. 

I re-wrote my first article at least five times until I was finally satisfied with it. And it wasn’t because it was terrible the first few times but because the doubts in my head kept telling me it wasn’t good enough and that no one would read it, let alone enjoy it.

You’d think I would’ve spent the last two days working hard to finish everything or to fix last-minute stuff, but I was doing the complete opposite. I watched, like, four episodes of New Girl with my sisters yesterday, read so much I finished my book a week before I had planned, and took long naps.

I wasn’t lazy, and I wasn’t avoiding work because I was stressed. I was so terrified that I found ways to lose myself in things that had nothing to do with my blog.

I know I shouldn’t expect anything significant the first day—not even for a whole year. But I can’t help it. I’m scared that these past nine months will have been for nothing. I’m afraid of being disappointed, of feeling like a failure, of no one finding my articles worth the read.

I’m worried that I’ll end up embarrassing myself. When you put yourself out there, for example, on social media, and your friends and family can see in the form of likes just how many people care about your blog, and there are less than ten likes, it’s embarrassing!

The concerns I have are so powerful that I’m finding flaws everywhere.

Suddenly my website doesn’t look as great as I thought, my articles don’t seem worthy of reading, and I feel like I should be doing something else with my life. I know I don’t honestly believe these things. Ask me a couple of weeks from now if I still agree with what I’m saying right now, and I’ll probably tell you I was an idiot. For now, though, the fears and doubts are too real.

And yet.

I’m going to try anyway. 

Even though my nerves are telling me to postpone the launch and to re-write my articles (again), and that I’m not ready, I’m going to launch the blog because I refuse to be a slave to everything trying to hold me back. My fears might be strong, but I’m stronger. I can beat them. 

Maybe I was petrified the last two days to the point where I avoided basically anything that had to do with this blog, but today I’m working my ass off to get everything ready. Today, I am determined and confident in what I’ve set out to do. Today, I’m in control—not my worries, not my fears.

And at the end of the day, that’s what truly matters. You might be frozen in bed, fearful of everything that could go wrong, but if you get up, those fears mean nothing. There’s nothing wrong with fear as long as you don’t let it beat you. 

I may have been afraid, but I beat it. I am in control of my fears; not the other way around.

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I share a room with my two sisters. The only place I can work alone is downstairs — where the kitchen and living room

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