As I approach the one-year anniversary of the break-in of my house, I realized something:
I am afraid.
I am afraid that the same thing will happen again (not likely, but research shows that anniversaries of traumatic events can trigger anxiety, memories, and feelings associated with the incident).
I am afraid that I’ll be in the wrong place at the wrong time (in my case, I was at a dinner party when the break-in occurred, not at home where I still feel like I could have prevented the incident from happening…or at least deterred them from kicking down the door).
I am afraid of confronting the people who broke in to my house and not knowing how to feel (or furthermore, not knowing how I currently feel about them: angry, sad, forgiving?)
I am afraid of not being in control of my environment.
I am afraid of all of the mad people out there whose minds go to such a dark place that they can shoot at human beings like fish in a barrel.
I am afraid that our humanity is shifting and that the fear rising up in all of us has the potential to suffocate the pure, kind & altruistic nature that is inherent to all of us at birth.
I am afraid that if we don’t start talking to others about how we feel then we will never truly know how many people feel exactly the same way.
I am afraid…and that is okay. Without fear, there can be no courage.