“Fear Was Here”

From the other side of stuck:

Fear was here.

It sat at the doorway of your becoming,

arms crossed,

daring you to try.

It whispered old wounds like lullabies,

told you you were too late, too small,

too broken to belong.

And you—

you believed it.

Not because you were weak,

but because you’d been hurt.

Because survival taught you silence,

stillness,

shrinking.

But still—

the thread of you never snapped.

Even in the frozen dark,

your soul kept weaving.

And then came the angels—

not with thunder,

but with truth.

You were not the fear.

You were the one holding it.

And you could let go.

And you did.

So now when fear comes—

and it will—

you don’t owe it your life.

You can listen,

then keep walking.

You know the way forward.

Your dreams are still yours.

And you are not alone.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

Fear Was Here

Journal Prompts | Fear Was Here

When I look back at the moments I was frozen by fear, what was I truly afraid of losing? (Safety? Love? Identity? Voice?) Let your pen answer without judgment.

Who or what were the “angels” that helped me move through? (People, signs, sudden clarity, whispers in the dark?) Acknowledge their presence. If fear could speak in my own voice, what might it say today? Let it speak—and then write your response from your higher self. I am most free when I… Complete this sentence without editing.

What is one dream I have that fear is still guarding? And what is one small step I could take toward that dream today, just to show I’m still coming?