Scared Can’t Mean Stop

My son, Max, was in a play in school recently. It was just his class, but all the parents were coming up to see them first thing in the morning on a Thursday.

He was nervous. So scared of everyone watching him. So scared that he’d mess up. So freaked out that he didn’t want to do it.

It was a good reminder that if we stop when we’re scared, we’ll never accomplish anything. He wants to be a video game designer when he grows up. While I have very little clue how someone designs a video game, I imagine, even if most of it is done independently, that at some point, the designer has to convince others that the game needs to be made. At some point, he’ll need to be on some kind of stage (literally or figuratively) with a bunch of eyes on him.

I spoke to Max about all the times I’m scared. I told him that even though I speak in front of people for a living that it always makes me nervous. And about how one of the biggest fears on earth is public speaking.

It was good for him to hear that he wasn’t alone.

I shared about how all his friends are as nervous as he is. Even if it didn’t seem that way. How everyone was so focused on themselves that they wouldn’t notice if he made a mistake because they were worried about the mistakes they might make. I told him he shouldn’t dread the play, but instead, try to see it as fun and exciting.

Of course, telling someone something only goes so far. So we practiced his parts a bunch, and at the end, he felt more confident.

He did great in the play, and he told me it was a lot better than he thought it’d be and that he wasn’t that nervous after all.

He didn’t want to do it because he was scared. He did it even though he was scared.

It’s easy to dismiss this as a ten-year-old just being a ten-year-old, but think about how often you don’t do things because you’re scared. Maybe it doesn’t always show up as a crippling fear, but I bet, if you’re really reflective about this, it happens a lot.

Recently, my buddy invited me as a guest to his really swanky gym on Long Island. We pulled into the parking lot and there were more Lamborghinis than Toyotas. Everyone inside was jacked and dressed like they were going to the club and not the gym.

I drank a lot of water on the drive, so before my workout (he was taking a class so we separated), I tried to find the bathroom. I couldn’t. The place was a labyrinth. At least it felt like that. So I had a choice: ask one of the incredibly beautiful and fit trainers or gym members where the bathroom was and out myself as a clueless guest and be really embarrassed or just hold it in.

I’ll leave it to you to guess what I did. And while you’re thinking on that, think about all the times you’re “holding it in” - whatever “it” is, because you’re scared of what may happen.

Scared can’t mean stop. But too often, for too many of us, it does.