I’ve avoided writing this blog because I’ve never thought of myself as a fearful person.
Twice, I’ve leapt walls trying to save my kitten and my dog from stranger’s Rottweilers.
As a young teenager, walking into a mall with my mum, a sad man whispered what he’d like to do with me while passing and I spun round and spat in his face. He might have intended to shock me but judging from his face, with my spittle dripping, I think he was more shocked.
At 50 I flew for three days (cheapest route) from Barbados to Rishikesh, India to stay for two months in a place where I knew no one. I rented a scooter rode into the unknown and hiked up mountains for hours. On my own, barefoot.
If anything fear has been good to me and given me the adrenaline to respond quickly and strongly (which is what it’s meant to do, at its best).