I'm one of those scared-to-succeed people.
Before I was one of those people, I thought those people were idiots.
How can you be scared to succeed?! Give me success! I won't be scared of it!
I realized it a few days ago when I noticed more definition in my arms.
Yes, the thought of having biceps scared me.
I don't know why. Maybe I think people with definable biceps have more responsibility, that more is expected of them. I guess I think I can't handle the responsibility. Of having biceps.
Yes I realize how $@#%*^ up that sounds.
I'm scared of my Etsy shop doing really well because how will I keep up with the demand?
I'm scared of my book doing well because what if my second one sucks?
I'm scared of loosing weight because what if I gain it all back again?
I'm scared of success because I'm scared of not being worthy of the success. I'm scared of success because I'm scared I won't be able to maintain it; I'll love it and loose it and it'll hurt.
It all sounds so $@#%*^ up, but I'm willing to bet everything that I'm not the only one who feels this way. That putting it all out there with the potential to either sink or swim is scary as hell. And it makes ya want to turn around and run screaming back towards what is comfortable.
But when you do taste success, even in something as minor as making big-bad-scary beans, it makes you feel like a million bucks. The highest high imaginable. It makes you want to run down the street shouting at the top of your lungs, call everyone you know, or at least update your Facebook status, and proclaim, "I TOOK A BAG OF DRIED BEANS AND I MADE A KICK-ASS SOUP. I SUCCEEDED. I'M AWESOME!!!!!" I found a dozen ways not to make beans and a million excuses to keep paying more for canned. It took me about a year, but I finally worked up the courage to kick beans where it hurts. It's minor. But it's still fear I overcame and success I earned.
So when I look in the mirror and I see a burgeoning bicep and I feel the pangs of fear, I close my eyes for one second, tune out the screaming child and the cussing neighbors and the clanging radiators, and imagine myself reveling in my success. Walking into a room of people I haven't seen in a while. Standing in front of a someone who doesn't really like me. And rocking it. Succeeding at my success. And totally rocking it.