Hey you MonsteRiser,

I have always furrowed my brow at the sheer thought of why anyone would walk onto a bridge, strap themselves up into a harness, step out onto a ledge, then… five, four, three, two, one – JUMP!

Who does that?

Now don’t get me wrong. A girl like a little thrill every now and again. But there are many thrills that I can think of other than bungee jumping my a** off a bridge!

I get the same rush at the thought of standing in front of an audience to speak or walking away from a guaranteed paycheck to start a nonprofit and even writing this blog.

Let’s be real. Are we really thrill seekers by definition, or are we choosing to engage in extremities so we can feel free or, beyond that, are we seeking to confront something deeper? Like . . .


The truth is we become paralyzed by Fear. Forcing our minds into overdrive thinking of all the reasons why an idea wouldn’t work, couldn’t work, or why it would flat out fail. Before long, Fear snatches you up so quickly you don’t even know what hit you.

When I decided to step out on faith, the thought of giving up the paycheck I knew would appear predictably twice a month in my bank account, literally made me hyperventilate. But what I know that was more powerful than Fear was the fact that I  knew my life was meant for something bigger, more purposeful. I asked myself if that paycheck was more important than living. Yes, my predictable paychecks permitted me to pay my bills, buy anything my heart desired (well, almost anything) and feel safe. But . . .

Playing it safe is sooooo boring!

Now let’s not get it twisted. I know there are circumstances when choosing to be safe is the right call to make. But I’ve also seen people live so safe, they were confined to a cocoon of sorts and I wonder whether they are living at all.

Case and point: My parents worked hard all their lives so they could save enough money to move to the country and buy their dream, retirement home. A few months after they purchased their home, my mother was diagnosed with Stage IV Lung Cancer and died shortly thereafter. Losing her not only broke my heart, but also solidified my resolve to never want to live safe again.

Fear became my friend!

I’m not talking about trivial Fears such as: “I’m afraid of heights” or “I won’t go walking in the woods alone at night because I might get eaten by a bear.” Hell, you won’t catch me walking in the woods at night, bear or not.

The Fear I’m talking about is the one that hangs out in your living room reminding you why you wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t do something. Look at her, standing there like she owns the place!

Fear is as real and as certain as life. It’s a natural part of being human. So what you had a little setback, maybe you even got knocked square on your butt! Trust me, I get it. But are you really going to let Fear bully you?


Say it again… and this time put a little hell in your voice.

Hell NOOO!

Good! Now let’s kick Fear’s little behind out of your living room and gnaw on the following reasons . . .

Why you should make Fear your friend.

Fear triggers you to take action.
Fearhelps you face what needs facing.
Fear gets you moving.
Fear gives you courage.
Fear propels you to new heights.
Fear makes you resilient.
Fear gives you power.

Fear helps you grow.

Fear teaches you about yourself or Fear can show you who you are and what you are made of.

All this talk about Fear reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Marianne Williamson that sits framed on my desk:

So when Fear freaks you out, you have two choices: You can go bungee jumping off a bridge, or you can make Fear your friend.

The harness is in your court.

The only thing we have to fear
is fear itself.

— Franklin D. Roosevelt


XO… Stay inspired!

L.Y. Marlow empowers and inspires women to live a more purposeful and joyful life through guided self-discovery and embracing their authentic selves. A dynamic speaker, award-winning author and accomplished social entrepreneur, she advocates for women to confront and conquer their fears and tap into their passion, purpose, and power.

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