By all accounts, I would be considered a quiet, shy, even meek person to anyone outside my family or handful of close friends. Over the decades, my debilitating childhood shyness faded, and since early adulthood, I have been mostly able to carry myself in social situations even if I was self-conscious or anxious. I still don't like talking in front of more than about 3 or 4 people, though, unless they are children. Needless to say, it is particularly difficult to speak up in any kind of confrontational or conflict situation. In addition to this issue, I have a couple of other hang-ups which might even qualify as phobias. One is a fear of driving outside of my comfort zone. This would include city and metro area bridges, tunnels, parkways, and just any somewhat complicated traffic pattern or area I'm not very familiar with. It flusters me and I get lost and disoriented. When I'm not sure where I'm going, I panic and don't know how to recover. I have a deathly fear of car accidents as well so I'm almost too cautious. Another hang-up is my fear of change. I'm a creature of habit and like to stick with the same places and routines. It makes me feel safe and secure.
I have discovered over the years, though, that there is a fierce and protective love that overpowers my usual nature and issues. I'm thinking it was first evidenced when I moved to New York to be near my then boyfriend, now husband. I was a recent college graduate who had a technical writing job and cute apartment in a small Virginia town. My guy had landed a job in NYC and had just returned from an internship in Germany. We were getting by with visits back and forth every few weeks, but that was hard. There really wasn't much opportunity for him in my area, so I packed up and left for a tiny apartment he found for me on Long Island. I had no job, no savings, and no ring on my finger. It was a pretty risky move for such a risk-averse individual.
It was scary but exciting to move to this brand-new place and get a job in the brokerage industry. Here I was, an English and Religion major who didn't know the difference between a stock and a bond, getting myself acclimated to the hustle bustle of working for a big producer and getting registered myself. It was energizing, different, and exciting for a few years. In the end, though, I was still me, and I was married and just had my second daughter when we were finally able to afford for me to stay home with my children, where I really longed to be by that time.
I have basically been a stay-at-home mom since then, for my now four children, with the exception of a couple years as a part-time English instructor. My life is mostly predictable, safe, quiet and stable, just as I like it. Every once in a while, though, that inner strength--inspired by intense love--pushes me way beyond my fears and my habits.
My oldest daughter coming out as gay pushed me to pursue a new faith community more in tune with true acceptance and more aligned with my mind and spirit. It took that extreme love and allegiance to my firstborn to trigger that big change from family tradition and identity.
Recently my second daughter wanted to attend an astronomy camp several hours away. This would require a difficult drive for me through the New York metro area and beyond. I would normally have avoided such a drive like the plague, but my strong need to support this daughter's dreams was bigger than my fear.
My calling to adopt my son from a Russian orphanage had me going *way* beyond the ordinary and safe. I tackled my fear of flying after 9-11, traveling in a strange country, and adding a whole list of unknowns to our happy little family.
And now my spirited, quirky little three year old is pushing me to stand up for her and protect her vulnerable little self. I am challenged to do whatever it takes, whether it be avoiding situations I know would overwhelm her even if others would not understand, or even risking lesser relationships if I feel they aren't supportive.
It's funny we usually think of love as such a soft and tender thing; for me, it is what makes me strongest.
