Letting Go Of Fear

I've realised of late that I've been letting fear get the better of me again.

It's not anywhere near as bad as last time, in fact it's a whole different kind of fear (not so much the emetophobia I suffered from before, fear fear).

I've been going running now for quite a few months, yet every time my housemate is busy I feel like I can't go without him for fear of being attacked or laughed at or judged.

It may sound silly, but I've heard a lot of "horror" stories, as it were, about solo female runners and, well, I don't exactly feel like I live in the safest of areas.

So, the solution would be to run in a more public place right? 

Wrong. 

I can't stand the idea of being all sweaty and out of breath and hideous in front of loads of strangers in cars, on bikes, in groups. It makes my heart get all jittery and my stomach ties itself into a million knots.

I just feel ridiculous and like a coward, yet this is the one exercise I've found I really enjoy and keeps me fit and motivated.

There's also the fact that I just bought my first car and I drove it back to London and all of that weekend with my boyfriend beside me, giving me pointers and whatnot, comforting me.

But there comes a point when one must attempt it alone.

It terrifies me that after four years since passing my test they just allow you to get behind the steering wheel once more without so much as a freshen up of a driving lesson as a requirement.

I guess it's difficult for that sort of thing to be enforced but trying to get used to driving again with all the things you have to keep an eye on and all the things you have to remember and getting used to a new car is really really daunting and hard, especially in London.

I won't wear dresses or skirts or show much leg at all because I think they're too pale and people will judge me.

I don't tend to go places alone, especially not restaurants, for fear of looking like a loner or getting picked on by some weirdo. 

It always happens, even just walking down the street, some weirdo will pick me to hurl his insults at or (and this is probably worse) the wolf whistling and cat-calling. It's horrible. I can never tell whether they're being serious or not. Plus it makes me feel really uncomfortable, either way.

I won't finish my book because I'm scared it's just not good enough. I keep putting it off even though I love writing it.

I feel like a coward and like I'm being stupid because I can't seem to work up the courage to do any of these things alone or at all.

What happened to being a strong, independent woman huh if I need someone to do these things with me?

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I wrote this post a few days ago.

Since then, I have in fact driven by myself - albeit only around the block a few times. But I managed to parallel park by myself and I didn't stall once. That equals success in my books.

I wore a dress today, out in Westfield, on a busy Sunday and I ran by myself this morning.

I still need to work on them, trust me, but there's still time to progress.

I will beat back my fears one step at a time.