Feeling the fear and doing it anyway
Read time 4 mins
Let’s talk about fear. Not the “someone just knocked on the door and I wasn’t expecting a parcel” fear (although yes, I’ll probably pretend I’m not home). I mean the deeper kind. The kind that shows up right before something meaningful. Something real. Something that asks for your full self.
It’s the voice that quietly says:
“What if this doesn’t work?”
“What if you’re too much?”
“What if you get hurt again?”
“What if you’re too much?”
“What if you get hurt again?”
That kind of fear is sneaky. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it shows up as perfectionism. Sometimes procrastination. Sometimes endless “planning” that never turns into action.
When fear and ADHD link arms
Now, add an ADHD brain that loves novelty but panics at structure, often forgets mid-sentence what it was supposed to be doing, and deeply feels all emotions at once, and fear isn’t just a quiet whisper. It’s a full-blown group chat. With gifs.
I can want something deeply and still talk myself out of it in five different ways before lunch.
I’ll research it, question it, avoid it, find something less scary to do (usually involving snacks/food), and then spiral about why I haven’t done the thing yet. It’s not laziness. It’s fear dressed up as “logic.”
What love has to do with it
The biggest example of feeling the fear and doing it anyway in my life… Love Is Blind.
Saying yes to that experience, and especially saying yes to marriage again, was honestly one of the most terrifying and brave things I’ve ever done.
I had been married before. I knew what it meant to give your heart to someone fully and have it not turn out as you hoped. I knew the pain of endings. The shame. The self-doubt.
So when I found myself connecting with Benaiah, someone who saw me, challenged me, and made me laugh in the kind of way that felt safe…fear showed up loud. My brain said:
“You’ve already tried this. What if it doesn’t work again?”
“What will people think?”
“What if you look foolish?”
But my heart, that wiser, softer part, whispered:
“What if it’s different this time?”
Saying “yes” to him wasn’t fearless. It was vulnerable. It was shaky and real and hopeful. It was me choosing love not because I was certain, but because I was ready to try again, even with fear still in the room.
And that decision has taught me more about courage than anything else ever could.
Learning to name it
Reading ‘Dare to Lead’ by Brené Brown helped me put language around that kind of risk. She writes:
“You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you can’t have both.”
That line helped me understand that discomfort isn’t a sign I’m doing something wrong. It’s often the cost of growth, of honesty, of love.
She also talks about how vulnerability is not weakness. It’s being willing to show up when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
Saying yes to love again, after heartbreak, is one of the purest forms of that.
Regret, the other side of the coin
‘The Power of Regret’ by Daniel Pink reframed another big piece for me. He explores how regret isn’t just painful, it’s instructive. It points us toward the life we wanted but didn’t pursue.
And it made me think:
“Would I regret trying and it not working?” Maybe.
But also... “would I regret holding back completely?” Absolutely.
That’s what got me over the line, not just with marriage, but with so many things: sharing my voice, starting again, being seen.
I’m learning that regret over not trying is far heavier than fear in the moment.
What courage looks like (in real life)
For me, courage doesn’t look polished or perfect. It looks like:
- crying before I do the thing, and then doing it anyway
- telling someone I love them without knowing what they’ll say back
- voice-noting my sister mid-panic spiral
- second-guessing myself and still showing up
- choosing to believe something could work again, even after it didn’t before
That still counts. All of it does.
The people who help me get there
Benaiah is part of my courage story, for sure. But he’s not always the calm one. Sometimes I am. Sometimes we’re both a bit overwhelmed and figuring it out in real time. It’s not always neat, but it’s real. I’m grateful for the journey that is love.
My sister is also a huge part of this. She’s the one I voice-note 14 times in a row. She knows how my brain works… the tangents, the doubts, the need to process out loud. She listens without judgment and gently reminds me of who I am when I forget.
Having people who hold space for the messy middle is everything.
If you’re sitting in fear right now
If you're on the edge of something, a new job, a new love, a new start, and fear is telling you to back away slowly, I want to say this:
You don’t need to be fearless. You just need to be willing.
You can bring the fear with you. You don’t have to wait for it to leave.
Ask yourself: “Will I regret trying?” And also ask: “Will I regret holding back?”
That’s what helped me say “yes” to love, to risk, to starting again, even when I didn’t feel ready.
Final thought from a not-so-fearless girl
I’m not writing this as someone who’s figured it all out. I still freeze sometimes. I have my moments.
But I’m learning that courage doesn’t feel like confidence. It feels like truth. It feels like alignment. It feels like moving forward, even if it’s just one shaky step at a time.
So here’s to doing the thing.
Even scared. Even unsure. Even again.
Time Blindness and ADHD: Why It’s Not Just About Forgetting th...
Read Time 4.5 mins
Why People-Pleasing Hits Different When You Have ADHD
Read time 5 mins
Wandering with a Wandering Mind: Travel and ADHD
Read Time 4.5 mins
