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The fear came—
that’s what fear does sometimes.
It arrived like weather—
uninvited, real.

It wasn’t mine to control.
But how I met it—
that was mine.

So I paused.

Yes, I flinched at first.
Old habits stirred.
But then I remembered—
I could choose to stay.

I didn’t need the fear to vanish.
I just needed to meet it
with empathy,
with gentleness.

And something shifted.

Not the fear—
but the way I carried it.
Not the storm—
but the way I stood in the rain.

And I learned

Fear Changes When We Meet It

It was the storm I thought would swallow me whole.
It became simply a cloud in the sky.

It was a monster at the door, demanding I run.
It became just a sound on the wind, asking to be heard.

It was a shadow that owned the room.
It became just a shape on the wall, shifting with the light.

It was the weight I thought I couldn’t carry.
It became a stone in my pocket, grounding me gently.

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