When I was younger, I never wanted to jump off the dock at the lake

The barely 5-foot drop seemed miles long to me

When I was actually in the water, the waves just barely lapped at my shoulders

And it always seemed so funny to everyone else, because I usually found company and comfort with the fish swimming below my feet

I would stay in until the valleys between my fingers became webbed and the pads of my fingertips softened and wrinkled

And it’s also not like I didn’t try,

Countless times I would run down the dock, but I could never pick my feet up off the worn wooden planks and jump into the air

The fear I felt petrified me into stone whenever I tried

The heat of the dog days couldn't hold a flame to the icy feelings flowing through my veins

I could float out to, what seemed like, the center of the lake and lay there for hours without worrying about anything beneath me, when I knew of creatures lurking below that could hurt me,

And I could swim out to the floating dock 100 feet away from the shore and slip in and out of the dark, endless water, but I couldn’t jump 4.5 feet below me

Another one of my childhood fears was the Disney movie, Haunted Mansion

My aunt was watching my brother and I one night when she showed me the movie for the first time

Afterwards, she brought us to her favorite ice cream place then a cemetery that looked identical to the movie, and told us it took place there

That one lie remained in the front of the filing cabinet in my brain for years to come

For some reason, nightmares held my mind captive for months afterward

The first time my family and I went to Disney World, the ride created in the image of the movie got stuck right over the ballroom

I had to spend what seemed like an eternity either trying to burrow my way into my cousin's shoulder or watching apparitions reveal themselves only to disappear the next second 

The eyes on the walls to my left bore holes straight into my soul with every blink 

The shriek I let out when the ghost hitchhikers appeared over my shoulder was filled with genuine terror and bounced around the room much longer than it should have. 

I could stomach watching shows that would erupt goosebumps all over my arms and make me keep the bathroom light on at the top of the stairs so I wouldn't have to walk up in the dark, but I could never get over that stupid children's movie

That’s the funny thing about fear, it’s typically completely illogical

I could face feats much bigger than a tiny jump or a silly movie

But the way I felt never let me confront them

The fear that built up in my joints never let me jump

And every thought of that movie made my throat fill with lead

When I tried each of them for the first time, I realized it wasn’t that bad

The quick trip to the bottom was, fun?

In fact, the drop was so short I had to bend at my knees the whole way down so I would end up under the water

And so was the movie 

The scene I could never forget didn't even happen the way I remembered

I spent years being scared of something that was meaningless 

And everything was fine

Because it usually is

Birds cant spend years locked in their cages because they fear what’s on the outside,

And neither can we