When your heart is pounding and you’re worried you might get your foot tangled and it’ll be embarrassing because all these people are watching… Just do it. Run in and jump that rope. You can do it.
Let them order you a shot of tequila even though you’ve sworn since the last time you can’t down the thing without gagging. Thinking about the taste makes you want to retch. You can feel the adrenaline rushing and you’re so nervous you’re shaking. But throw your head back. You can do it.
Stare into the tiny bottle. It’s counter-intuitive to let something drop into your eye. You feel the urge to blink, to protect your eye from the foreign liquid. But your eyes will feel better, promise.
Dare yourself to sing at the next open mic session. The jitters are natural but they aren’t necessary. It’s like that after every performance… You learn that fear is transient and that it is quickly replaced with comfort, trust, ease. You always want to do it again.
You’ve always imagined waxing to be unbearably painful. But it’s not nearly as bad as you thought, was it? And how about that time, at six thirty in the morning, when nobody would jetty jump? You raised your hand and quietly regretted it. But that reprimanding voice lasted only a second, because when you made that splash and let the coolness envelope you, you realized that the drop was worth it (and proceeded to jump again and again).
Do things that scare you- things that you know won’t hurt you really. It’ll be fun, exhilarating. The experience will be it’s own reward- like you’ve survived something you didn’t think you would. Do it and be proud (looks like Nike says it best! lul). Make the list of things you’ve done, the times you’ve embarrassed yourself grow longer. Collect those stories, your little milestones- because you’re the most exciting person here.
On that note, I’m reminded of the poem Parachute by Lenrie Peters. Check it out. 🙂