I’m not talking about my fear of the dark or certain people’s irrational fear of spiders and centipedes. But if you are one of those people that have a fear of bugs, just know that house centipedes eat spiders, so pick one to save because you can’t have it both ways. This post won’t be about how to cure your aversion for bugs but rather a post detailing my fear of vulnerability and attention. I recently discovered the beauty about blogging that allowed me to settle those fears a little. It was an attractive way for me to deliver a message minus the performance. I felt I had things I needed to share but hated having all eyes on me.

First thing’s first, there’s a difference between being needy and being needed. One of those has an emotional piece that I often disregard because it calls for attachment that frankly, I never asked for. But if you needed me to do something, I would manage it all with a to-do list. If students needed me to reteach a concept, explain the why Algebra was important or grab a hockey stick on the top shelf – those were things that I could do. I’d simply Google or do it right away. Being needed allowed me to feel productive. There was a sense of comfort knowing that I was alleviating stress just by helping people with their work. People seem to be doing well on the outside, even through the uncomfortable, menial small talk it was the underlying are you really okay, because it’s okay if you’re not that always got to me. I looked for those red flags because I felt that deep down, everyone was just like me. We all have a Batman signal and even when it wasn’t flashed, I had to make sure that it wasn’t blurred by the clouds. That’s what brought me comfort.


I’m not good with writing narratives. I strictly base my writing on observation, facts and conversations. I mean, a little fabrication is needed but I’ve been doing it for quite some time so I have a lot to pull from. Creative writing was one of the worst classes I took in highschool. I’m pretty sure I got a solid 70. How does one even mark creativity anyways? There’s no algorithm for it! I was able to write about my favourite summer holiday but not about what happens after you find a magic key on the floor. At the heart of creativity lies passion and we all know passion can be unreliable and sporadic. Don’t get me wrong – I’m passionate about my job but even that only takes me as far as teaching how to structure an essay and offering grammarly advice. The content itself is all on you. It’s why I’m good at teaching Math and not English. It made things easier to work with an algorithm because logic is consistent.

This is probably why I relate better to my Intermediate students rather than my Primaries. The younger ones became an object of aversion to me because they have this carefree la-dee-da attitude that I just cannot seem to get onboard with. Their responses to my questions are 9 out of 10 times an Error 404: Page Not Found. When I tell my intermediate students to leave me alone, they get me. But when I tell my primary students, they take it as an invitation to cling onto me. I’m not playing hard to get, I really mean go away. Or maybe their less than developed minds just simply just don’t understand what “go away” really means – I’ll use a simple hand motion next time (you know the one I’m talking about).

Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.”

Brene Brown

The downfall of vulnerability is that if it’s in the wrong hands, it takes a long time to build back up. You end up at the same place you started. This time, those issues you dealt with before, are magnified. I’ve witnessed it with my friends, I’ve experienced it first hand and it takes a lot out of you mentally and physically to get back to a place that’s comfortable. For a long time it felt like I was just going through the motions without realizing that muscle memory took it’s form and any sudden movements would make my body go into shock. Someone told me that it takes 21 days to break a habit. If that habit was being vulnerable, then man, I broke it, stomped on it and tossed it to the side.

Maybe that’s why there’s a slight hesititation on publishing this piece. I’m writing in my natural form, the sarcasm that’s meant to entertain is stripped away. But what’s good writing without any authenticity? Don’t expect all my posts to be like this. I’d rather create a production out of nothing than speak like I have a say in something that matters deeply to me. All my other pieces have been written with a no-filter attitude and this one has taken twice as long because, and I hate to say it, this ice queen does have a heart.

One thought on “Fears

  1. My favourite post to date. Two things stuck out: “Being needed allows me to be productive” and “the downfall of vulnerability is that if it’s in the wrong hands, it takes a long time to build up”. On the former, I think we all feel that in our professional and personal lives, being needed affirms our value, provides a sense of belonging and is a source of intrinsic motivation. All good things, except the hamster wheel effect where we are being productive for productivity sake and not in tune with our actual drive. On the latter, it’s an unfortunate reality that egos and hearts get damaged one way or another many times over, by ill-will (blame others), ill-fortune (blame society/world) or ill-use (blame self).

    Living (and writing) authentically doesn’t always have to feel like presenting vulnerability but perhaps rather a dashing show of courage. I believe courage is at the heart of expression and creativity, it’s a fuel that never runs dry as long as we’re willing to put in the effort. Keep it up! 😉


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