I overheard someone describing me as brave. I was so confused and wanted to interject, “I’m not brave at all. I’m afraid of everything.”

Because, I’m afraid of everything. Mostly what I’m afraid of us is failure. I expect to succeed. I don’t know why I expect that since I’ve failed at so many things. But I not only expect to succeed, I expect to do so right from the start. No learning curve here, just whiz through life getting it all right.

And then there is reality. It is nothing at all like that. I learn easily so it isn’t all horrible, but I still have to learn every damn new thing I try.

Today, in preparation for my Sistercation, I was trying to figure out how to get a picture posted to Facebook from my tablet. I have many cute pictures saved to my laptop and I decided to put a bunch of them up on Dropbox. So I had to get a picture on Dropbox to appear in my newsfeed.

I still don’t know how to change the folder Facebook wants to use for finding a picture. The pictures I want aren’t in my Gallery, the only place Facebook will look. Dropbox wants me to share a picture by sharing it with other people who use Dropbox – share the file.

It took me over fifteen minutes to learn I had to export the picture from Dropbox to Facebook and by lunch time I forgot it and had to figure it all out again. I think I might have it now. I hope so.

If I have this much trouble figuring out something so simple, you can imagine the rest of my life. It’s chaos. One of my biggest stumbling blocks with yoga was the whole set of rules. I came home the first day of my third try in near tears. I didn’t even know how to breathe correctly and I looked like a complete idiot. Mind you, this was in front of people who watch me do CrossFit, another place where I mostly look like a complete idiot.

But I was embarrassed, ashamed, fearful of looking stupid. This was, according to my father, worse than any other sin. One should always be perfectly in control and correct. Mostly be correct. 100% 100% of the time.

So, I’m nervous or anxious or really, simply afraid each and every time I try something new and different. I’m bizarrely terrified of driving somewhere I’ve never been before. I’m nearly paralyzed with fear most of the time I step outside the house. There are unknowns out there and I may not be able to master them.

But I can’t just sit here and do nothing. So I tamp down the fear, ignore the voices telling me how much I can’t do, and go ahead and try.

I have never died – yet. And so, I keep trying. Fear may be a liar, but it is a persistent one. A loud one. An insistent teller of stories of doom, destruction, failure, and embarrassment. I thought by this time in my life I would have mastered fear. I haven’t. But I have gotten a bit better at ignoring it. I just go through life scared, conquering all manner of things. None of them perfectly. But at least it gets me out of the house.