When I left my home to spend my birthday in a cabin in the middle of the woods, I vowed that the only way I’d get home was if I drove myself (and my grandparents) back down, utilizing the interstate for most of the drive home.

This was a huge step for me, as I was scared of driving, period. Driving on the highway was (and still kind of is) one of my greatest fears. 

But, with my grandparents’ encouragement, I managed to do just that.

After spending a blissful forty-eight hours in Colorado’s beautiful high-country, I barreled down to the plains at 70+ miles per hour till we hit a snarl of major traffic, caused by a severe wreck at the base of the foothills. To avoid it, I took highway 40 the rest of the way home, confronting another one of my great fears along the way: driving through tunnels. In total, I drove through five incredibly dark, congested tunnels between Black Hawk and Idaho Springs, and nothing bad even came close to happening. 

Ok, I was still very afraid. My silence and white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel gave that away. But, despite the fear, I drove anyway. And, a couple weeks later, I returned to Idaho Springs alone, having conquered I-70 on my own, both ways, with no problems (aside from that fear, of course). 

Driving myself home from the cabin wasn’t exactly a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was years in the making. I’d spent my whole life up until then being controlled by my fear. I did everything that I could to avoid feeling fear at any and all costs, which only had the exact opposite effect on me. 

Things that I grew up thinking were terrifying became even more so, and things that I grew up not fearing at all became scarier with age. At the same time, with age, I learned to stuff that fear down and deny its existence, because everyone from my family and therapists, to teachers and peers made it clear that my fears were childish and unacceptable. 

In other words, I grew up having never properly dealt with my fears. But my ability to mask my fear was (and is) so damn good that everyone around me thought I’d been “cured” of all of my fears. They believed that illness caused by Cystic Fibrosis was what caused me to become more withdrawn with time, and if I got my health back, I’d return to the world a healthy, functional, and fearless adult. 

Well, I got my health back, but I still isolated myself out of fear. Finally, it was clear to everyone around me that my tendency to stay indoors and away from others wasn’t due to my physical health. Rather, it was clear that I was absolutely petrified of the world around me. In fact, I still am. 

Yet, I’m still determined to buck those fears so they don’t get in my way, especially since I’m preparing to transfer from community college to a university. Specifically, I’ve decided that I’d fit in best at CU Denver, given its diversity, class sizes, opportunities, and familiarity.