The Fear of Being Seen — and Why I’m Doing It Anyway

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There’s a part of me that still gets scared of the spotlight.

Not fame. Not praise. Just the quiet exposure of being truly seen — as I am, unfinished and imperfect.

The fear says:

“What if they mock you?
What if they misunderstand you?
What if you’re not good enough to help anyone?”

But here’s what I’ve realized:

I’ve already been judged, rejected, and disrespected — even when I was silent. Even when I hid.

So if I’ve paid that price anyway…
why not step out and risk doing some good?

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There were times in my life — long, dark stretches — where suicide felt like the only option.
When connection seemed impossible.
When shame wrapped so tightly around me I couldn’t breathe.

And in those moments, I didn’t need a perfect mentor.
I didn’t need a 10-step recovery plan.

I just needed a glimmer.
A flicker of proof that someone like me could survive.
That maybe I wasn’t beyond repair.

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That’s why I write.

Not to be impressive.
Not to be liked.
But because if one person finds even the smallest light in what I share — one person lost in the dark, quietly holding on — then every ounce of fear becomes irrelevant.

I don’t write for approval.
I write because I believe in something bigger than fear:

The power of honesty.
The quiet strength in showing up.
The healing that comes when one person dares to speak their truth.

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So when fear whispers,

“You’re exposing too much,”

I remind myself:

I’m doing this for the version of me who had no one.

And maybe, just maybe, for someone else who needs that glimmer now.

If even one hurting soul feels less alone,
then it’s all worth it.

Because I’m not hiding anymore.

This is who I am.

And I’m standing in it.