50th Post. Already. I Was Scared.

I was five and I was scared, but I can’t remember why. 
I would probably let my own reflection scare me if I thought about it.
I was eleven and scared, because god middle school. 
And I was twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen 
and realizing
I would never be what I told myself I would be. 
Yes, 
I would be less, but 
also yes 
I would be more. 
I was sixteen and scared because
he pressed his lips to mine gently and gave me butterflies.
He made me think differently and 
everything was so new. 
I was different because of him. 
I was seventeen and I was scared because
I was realizing that childhood is short and 
heartbreak is real, because 
of course, no one expected that first boy to stick around. 
(Especially me, sadly). 
I was eighteen and scared because I was moving away
and hours would separate me from 
those that I loved so deeply. 
I was eighteen and scared, 
but exhilarated, 
because every day was knew and fresh. 
And soon, I will be nineteen and scared, for new reasons that I cannot yet fathom. 
But somewhere in this fear, I learned
that being scared can also be
being honest.
So I’m not sorry that I am easily afraid, 
I am proud to say I learn new ways to
overcome
new fears.

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