The Voice I Was Most Afraid to Hear — Was My Own

I used to think fear meant don’t go there.

If something made me tense or overwhelmed, I took it as a warning — a reason to avoid, fix, or perform better.

But sometimes, fear isn’t danger:

It’s desire — trying to rise.

I’ve noticed this when I write something honest, or speak from a raw place,

Fear whispers:

“You’re not ready. Say it better. Hold back just a little.”

When I pause and listen, I realise -

It’s not trying to stop me.

It was just taught to protect something tender.

The desire to be seen.

To express freely.

To be accepted without over-explaining.

To stand in my truth — even if it’s imperfect.

The part of me that wants to be seen as who I really am, without apology.

Fear isn’t always a problem.

Sometimes it just means you’re getting closer to something honest.

Not because you pushed through.

But because you stay with it - and finally heard the truth underneath.