Overcoming Fear: How a Trusted Friend Can Help You Take Your First Leap

I remember the first time I literally leapt off a ledge - if you count a street curb as a ledge. 

My parents raised me to be extremely fearful. They were terrified that I would be squashed by a car before I reached the age of five, so they instilled in me, from the moment I could comprehend words, that if I were to step into the street, I would be put into a wooden box and buried in the ground. Those were their exact words. 

They had reason to be fearful. My mom tells me that as a toddler I had figured out how to unscrew the hardware on my playpen, push the side rail to the floor, and escape out the front door on a quest to nearby fields in search of daisies and tadpoles. 

Like most toddlers, I had no fear at that age. The world was my oyster, full of interesting sounds, tastes, and smells to be explored -- poison and allergies be damned. But as my parents impressed upon me that every step toward wonder was fraught with imminent death (or at least dismemberment), my circle of exploration and depth of confidence diminished.

By the time I hit sixth grade, I was practically afraid of everything: encountering bullies,

being spoken to by boys, getting in trouble with teachers, and yes, crossing the street.

My best friend Robin (I think it’s appropriate that she’s named after a bird) is the one who taught me to fly. She took me under her wing (pun intended) and decided to remake her timid little friend. Robin taught me to curse in long strings that she forced me to repeat until it didn’t feel weird anymore. She made me flirt with boys whether I was interested in them or not. She made me jump over hurdles on horses with an English saddle (no horn to hold for safety). I obliged, in spite of falling off — A LOT. I wanted Robin to be proud of me.

Robin was a joiner. She made me join track and try for homecoming queen and compete in forensics and — horror of horrors — audition for the school play.  I can honestly say that I would never have become the confident actress, world traveler, and entrepreneur I am today without the influence of my insistent friend Robin.

But the first lesson she walked me through was to cross Circle Avenue - a BUSY four-lane street with a crosswalk light that didn’t give us enough time to cross unless we ran.  Each time Robin hit the crosswalk button and the green walk light blinked, I chickened out. The images my parents had planted in my brain of flung into the air like a ragdoll by someone’s front grill were just too vivid.  

Finally, Robin decided to blindfold me. If I couldn’t see the cars, I guess she figured,  I couldn’t be afraid of them. The first few times across, she held my hand. Then she made me do it just by following her voice. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time. She helped me in overcoming my fears, starting with that one step. I doubt Robin even remembers this exercise, but it was a heart-stopping first leap into a lifetime of daring deeds.