It should come as no surprise that I’m scared of a lot of things. I’ve accepted this and the constant ridicule that comes from my kids about my fears of EVERYTHING.
HOWEVER. What bothers me is that they all constantly reminds me of this without acknowledging the times I jump outside of my comfort zone for the sake of the family “adventure” so to speak.
Example? We went tubing down the New River on our vacation. Every few minutes I was drifting and could see the bottom of the river and was relaxed and it was lovely. But then the water would get too deep for me to see the bottom or I’d start drifting to the banks where the monsters (snakes and bugs and vegetation that will pop your inner-tube and rocks that will get you stuck and…) and I would FREAK THE HECK OUT LIKE A CRAZY PERSON.
At one point I was holding on to Nyoka and Eliah so our tubes would stay together and we got close to the edge and I totally pushed away from them to save myself.
They proceeded to make fun of me for that move the rest of the trip.
BUT WHAT ABOUT HOW BRAVE I WAS TO DO IT IN THE FIRST PLACE, HUH?
We went one day to cross the swinging bridge at Grandfather Mountain. Wesley and I crossed together (N: “No thanks.) and we were both terrified and he was gripping my hand with a death grip and the whole way across I was trying not to panic as I felt like he was going to pull me off the bridge trying to hold onto me so tight. Then he crossed with Donnie and was FINE. Didn’t even need to hold his hand. Totally chill. Why? “Because he can sense your fear.”
OF COURSE HE CAN SENSE MY FEAR. I ALMOST PEED IN MY PANTS A MILE HIGH IN THE SKY.
On one hike there was a bolder with a ladder “fastened” to it to help you climb higher. I was like, “Not no, but HELL NO,” to Wesley because…hello! BROKEN ARM!
And then, of course, Donnie comes down from exploring and doesn’t want to discourage Wesley from being brave so he offers to help him climb and of course WESLEY DOESN’T EVEN NEED HELP and I’m sitting at the bottom having a heart attack and trying not to cry.
It was all pretty terrifying. And I’m remembered as the scaredy cat that wouldn’t climb the rock or BUT I WAS BRAVE AND LET THEM CLIMB EVEN THOUGH I DIDNT WANT TO! Yes…I freaked out from the river weeds. I almost wrecked on the easiest bike ride on the planet because I looked down at the wrong time. Everyone loves joking about how scared I am of everything.
BUT I WALKED ACROSS THE BRIDGE!
I RODE THE 17 MILES ON THE VIRGINIA CREEPER!
I ACTUALLY INNER-TUBED!
Nope. That’s not what people remember. People remember my tears and my panicking and the things I did NOT do.
But that’s okay. I admit I’m pretty ridiculous at times. And the retelling of some of the stories with everyone animating how scared I was is pretty funny…I’ll admit. And if they want to remember me shoving my two oldest kids into the river banks to save myself instead of remembering me jumping OUT OF MY OWN INNER TUBE TO SAVE MY YOUNGEST CHILD WHEN HE WAS PANICKING THAT IS FINE.
It’s hard to be a scaredy cat. Even when you are brave that once out of ten times, the other 9 times you might have cried a little are too funny to forget.