Some people have a vision board. 
I have a fear board.  

It was prescribed to me by both a palm reader and my therapist, if you can believe it.  I could see my dreams realized in vivid detail a mile ahead.  I tried to get there, going as fast as I could, but I was carrying a 100lb sandbag every step of the way.  That sandbag was my crippling fear.  

You know that dream where you’re trying to run as fast you can but for some reason you can’t? You’re walking slowly because you can’t go any faster. Running is impossible and you're never able to get there.  That’s exactly it. 

It’s not that I didn’t know any better, either.  If you told me you were struggling with fear of failure I would know exactly what to tell you.  I’ve been a student of personal development for some time, so I’d know just what to regurgitate from my learnings.  My fear was bigger than me and my advice.  

This one therapy session in particular helped me fully understand why.  I was telling my therapist about my crippling fear and everything that books and a mentor prescribed that were ineffective.  

“Just do the thing! When you do the thing, it loses its power over you,” my mentor at the time told me. It sounded so simple. I knew he was genuinely trying to help, and maybe it had worked for him. But I remember thinking, you just don’t get it.  This isn't your lane, bruh.  This thing I can’t describe holds more power over me than my strong, determined, logical mind. It was beyond intellect—something else entirely.

I knew to take action despite my fear, and I did take action! I spent hundreds of hours of nights and weekends pouring onto my dreams for years.  He told me to do the thing but I’ve BEEN doing the thing.  It just never seemed to materialize fully.  There’s always a reason why I’m not quite there yet.  Queue the overly self-critical me: you fucking fraud.

My biggest problem in this whole wide world was a crippling fear of failure. 

At my therapist appointment, I told her about the two biggest things that weigh on me.  

1. I’m THIRTY NINE years old, and MILES behind.  The expectations I invented about where I should be by now weighed heavy on me.  It stole the joy from my wins for many years.

2. Wanting to be able to help mom and dad transition into retirement, but yet I’m STILL not there yet.  They deserve that and more.  They worked their asses off to raise us and here I am, a few years away from knocking on death’s door and I still can’t fucking do that. 

My therapist asked if I had considered that maybe the reason why achieving is so important to me and why I’m so fearful of failure is because at some point, my child brain observed that achieving–winning at something–got mom and dad’s attention.  

She said, "your sister is like the good kid and that got her attention.  Your brother got sick a lot growing up and that demanded mom and dad’s attention.  And you?   The black sheep, as you described?" 

What if underneath your frustration about where you should be is the part of you that thinks your achievements are what make you valuable?

What if you’re afraid of failure because your self-worth is attached to your accomplishments? 

It’s funny.  She finished explaining and waited for my response but for some reason I was annoyed.  It didn’t resonate at all.  As I was explaining this to her, I randomly felt a knot in my throat and boom.  The waterworks confirmed she was right.  

As it turns out, underneath my ambition and relentlessness is a child who just wants to make mom and dad proud.  My hesitation and the immense fear that had me pursuing at snail pace was the kid in me trying to protect me.  Yes, it’s possible I could succeed if I truly went for it, but if I open that can of worms, it’s also possible that I’ll fail.  That is the worst thing that could happen to the kid who wants to make mom and dad proud.   

Add feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt to the mix, and trust me—no amount of literature on overcoming fear could even begin to chip away at this potent mental cocktail of deep concerns.  I worked through my self-doubt.  My confidence.  Courage.  Even so, nothing changed.  

As it turns out, avoiding fear was kid Karla's greatest ally—a strategy she developed to protect me to keep the dangerous risks at bay.   My therapist recommended I create a fear board, to help rewire my brain.  She told me to fill it with fear-based beliefs, images that represented my fears, etc. Then, she suggested I place it somewhere I’d see it often, encouraging me to greet it in passing and read it regularly. The intention was for me to get used to it.  I had been ill-advised by a kid up until then, so I needed to create my own new relationship with this very normal, healthy thing called fear.  

My therapist helped me see that fear is meant to be a friend. When it’s not being misused, its purpose is to keep us safe. Left to its own devices, fear would have us avoid anything risky or intimidating—even if it’s good for us. It would call on allies like perfectionism, overthinking, imposter syndrome, and fear of failure to keep danger at bay—some of my personal faves.

Except, fear isn’t supposed to be running the show.  WE should be running the show.  We should be able to listen to fear and say, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ve done my research and I will be safe.  Thank you for having my best interest at heart, I’ll let you know if I need your insight.  

I created the board.  I pinned the biggest fears on it and added two tarot cards to it.  The death card, which represents the death of something old, that will make space for something new, and the devil card, which represents the darker side of us and the negative forces that hold us back.  It invites one to take full responsibility for how long we’ve let those things control us, and the impact they’ve had in our life. 

This board has been in my office, bedroom, everywhere.  Sometimes I forget it’s there.  Other times, when I’m doing something scary and I’m terrified, I’ll go look at the board.  I’ll read every single fear on it and sometimes it brings me to tears.  Whereas I used to avoid the fears, I now sit with them.  I acknowledge them.  Then, I go and do the thing.   

I recently did the scariest of scary things.  I’ve had a goal that I’ve been talking about to anyone who will hear it.  I’ve thought about it, worked on it, planned it for years.  Due to the above, I never pulled the trigger.  

But I’m actually in the air right now.  I finally decided to jump off.  I stood at the edge for a couple of months, which is the closest I’ve ever gotten.  And then recently, I said, RIP baby, I’m jumping off the fucking cliff.  

I don’t know whether success will catch me, or if I’ll fall the hardest I’ve ever fallen into failure.  I truly don’t know but this decision alone feels like I'm already winning.  

If you’re like me and you find yourself struggling with fear…

If there’s a thing you’ve always wanted to do, but you haven’t because:

(insert fear disguised as justification),

I hope you read this and decide to jump off. 

I once had a long list of reasons not to jump. 
Valid reasons, too:

- Trying to get out of debt
- Trying not to get back into debt 
-  It took a while to get to stability
- It's not a good time 
- I'm not fully prepared yet
- I don't want to risk losing my condo
- There's so much to do
- I understand the way the pendulum swings: the greater the highs, the lower the lows.  The bigger the risk, the greater the reward.  But fuck, can I just cash in all my previous failures so I can be done with the failing part? 🫠  If I could just find the safest way to do this.  It's a good thing I have a job.  I have time.  

So many valid reasons to delay.  What I’ve learned is, that’s how one goes their whole life never achieving their dreams: valid reasons.  

My biggest fear in life is reaching my deathbed with regret—regret for how I treated my dreams and aspirations and for discarding the gifts my heart offered me, all because of valid reasons. That’s regret.

It’s a thrilling feeling to give yourself permission to take your dreams and aspirations seriously.  To walk the talk, no matter the outcome.  

As Erin Hanson beautifully articulated, 

"There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask:

'What if I fall?' 

Oh but my darling,

What if you fly?"

-KARLA