“He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair.”
― Arundhati Roy,
You can run a search on the word “fear” and find it peppered throughout this blog. What is a year of adventure if not a campaign to conquer fear? Note: this is not a complaint: For someone who proclaims to be afraid of everything this attitude can only help. Fear is but a trick of the mind, right? And I’ve celebrated fantastic victories. I’ve battled fear! Defeated fear! I’ve committed to quiet asides with fear, and went so far as to share certain fears. To be FAIR (get it?!) I’m a stronger woman for it, and I feel forever changed. But, through it all I’ve been selective. You see, skydiving and trapeze swinging and frozen baptisms all feel like childs play in comparison to the one pursuit I’ve kept at bay. Because now, inevitably and begrudgingly, I’ve found myself in the place I fear the most:
Dear reader, I had to visit the dentist.
Please understand that I’m not in the habit of admonishing dentists. In fact, if I’m to be honest, the only dentists I’ve known have been lovely – leaving me trauma-free, and smile ready. So why the ire? Why do I consider this THE FEAR of ALL FEARS? And when I say FEAR I am not in jest. Think sleepless nights and mid-day panic. Think expertly chewed nails and avoidance for a long, long time. I’m ashamed to admit 6 years too long. All for a profession that has only ever been kind to me in the past.
I mean it when I say that it’s me, not them.
That’s because this doesn’t have to do with dentists, and has everything to do with needles. (More …)