The Terrible Price of the Un-Lived Life
I’ve never considered myself fearful.
Even as a child, I was borderline reckless with my bravery. There was no tree I was afraid to climb or height I was afraid to go to. If someone told me I couldn’t do something, I was definitely going to try to do it. No dare was too terrifying for the likes of me, and if Hogwarts had invited me to attend, I would have certainly been sorted into Gryffindor.
I had bravado, but I’ve come to learn just how fearful I was beneath it. Even now, I hate to admit how much of my life was shaped around fear. Fear of failure. Fear of admitting I was wrong. Fear of risk. Fear of success, even. Sure, I took some risks, but they weren’t real ones. I only tried at things where I was fairly certain I would succeed.
I stopped taking art classes because I was once judged harshly. I didn’t travel because I didn’t think it was something I could do alone. I got married when I should have stayed single, stayed married when I should have gotten divorced, and chose jobs based on security over other factors. It seems like most of my decisions were fear-based, but I called it something else.
Like practicality. Like sound decision making. Like anything but fear. I would never have admitted to that.
But it makes sense. When we’re in a situation where we’re unhappy, the last thing we want to do is to face it. If we face it, we might have to do something about it.
As much as I was afraid to stay in an unhealthy relationship, I was absolutely terrified of what my life would look like outside of it. I was afraid of being a single mom, afraid of dating, afraid of relocating and starting my life over, and generally afraid to go into a future I couldn’t imagine.
Think about that: I spent years of my life unhappy because I couldn’t imagine what my future would look like if I changed things.
The terrible price of an un-lived life is that we continue living it just as it is. Nothing changes. Unless it gets worse. Or gets a little better and then gets worse again. We forfeit the years of our lives to a sense of powerlessness. We’re so afraid of imagining a different reality that we stay and hurt in the familiar confines of the prisons we built for ourselves.
It’s too high of a price to pay.
At least, it was for me.
A time came when my fear of living the rest of my life that way became greater than my fear of the unknown. Only then was I capable of making the necessary changes. The relationship change, the relocation, the career change. The dominoes fell and kept falling, but instead of me being terrified, I was exhilarated. My stress eased, and while I had new worries, they were so much less of a weight than the old ones because I had new joys, too.
The future I hadn’t been able to imagine was actually beautiful. It’s not that I lacked courage. Clearly, I had it all along. I just had to be more afraid of a wasted life than the risk it would take to create one I would love. I found my courage, and it made all the difference.
It’s easy to look at people living lives they hate and think they should change them. From the outside looking in, it’s simple. Get a new job. Dump that guy. Learn to love the body you’re in. But no one can want it enough for us. And no one else can decide for us that our lives would be better if we cared enough to make intentional choices to improve them.
We do care. We’re often doing the very best we can with the coping skills that we have. Even the idea of change can be terrifying. So, we lead fearful lives because of futures we can’t imagine.
And the price is terrible.
When we get tired of paying it, there are a few simple steps that could help us transition out of those lives into something new.
- Dare to imagine that a changed life could be a happy one. Instead of fantasizing about all the things that could go wrong, imagine what would happen if they went right. Learn to believe it’s just as likely.
- Give ourselves the advice we would give someone we loved in the exact same situation. Sure, we should love ourselves, but we often don’t. So, we can picture our best friend. We can tell ourselves what we’d tell them. Then, we do what we’d want them to do to make their lives better.
- Start small. There’s no need to fake our death and move to another country. Instead, we can start taking small steps to get where we need to be. The first thing I did was start saving to leave the life I had for the one I wanted. I needed to be able to afford a moving truck and deposits on an apartment. I started there. Just the act of saving was an intentional act toward the life I wanted. We don’t have to change our lives in a day. We just have to start working toward what we want rather than just saying we want it.
- Allow setbacks to push us forward, not stop our progress. It’s easy to get discouraged when things don’t go according to plan. Life rarely does. When setbacks happen, we can take the time to refocus and make a new plan. We just have to believe in the futures we want enough not to give up on them.
- Be happy now. Instead of postponing our happiness for when we achieve our goals, we can start learning to be happy right now. Prioritizing self-care and generally finding ways to enjoy the process will help us shape our lives around each day and not just when we get what we want.
I have so much love for the version of me who shaped a life around fear. She did the best she could for as long as she could. I’m so grateful for the version of me that found the courage to take a big risk for an even bigger payoff. It all worked out in the end.
I’m not willing to pay the price of a fearful life anymore. It’s not that I’m fearless; I’m just willing to find the courage to take the risks to live the life I need.
I wish you the courage to do the same, to imagine that your future could be as beautiful as your dreams.
