In her book, “Girl, Wash Your Face,” author Rachel Hollis answers the question, “How do I …?”
How do I pick myself up after a loss?
How do I get rid of these looping negative thoughts that enter my head every day?
How do I bring more purpose to my life?
After reading her book, I’ve determined my question is, “How do I conquer my fears?”
I am afraid of heights.
I am afraid to wear a bathing suit in public.
I am afraid of the dentist.
I recently set out to conquer my fear of the dentist, thanks to laser dentistry in Luverne.
Dr. Rebecca Vis and her staff’s sense of humor lessened my anxieties, and the dental work was done in a quick and efficient manner.
I even returned for a second appointment, feeling less anxiety than I did on the first visit.
Conquering the swimsuit issue, on the other hand, has taken a little more effort.
Until recently, my last time in a swimming pool was with my late sister.
She was in the pool with her grandkids, enjoying the young ones’ reactions to floating in the water.
She wasn’t embarrassed by stretch marks or the extra pounds, so when I decided to join her it was because she was having fun.
Two weeks after that she died, and my fears of donning a swimsuit returned.
Now I have my own grandchild and I don’t want to sit on the sidelines any longer while everyone else enjoys the indoor water park.
So, in January I donned my one-piece and spent time floating around the lazy river, slopping in the splash pond and throwing balls in the water baskets with my granddaughter.
As a twist, I decided the water slide was something I wanted to try.
With my son-in-law in tow for support, I climbed the tower (and, yes, I was afraid of the height) and managed to make it to the tunnel opening and stopped.
I was afraid.
Fortunately I was more afraid of the horrified looks on the faces of the elementary-aged kids standing in line behind me that I would have to pass in order to climb back down the stairs.
With Andy ahead of me, I waited several seconds in a panic until I finally pushed myself inside the tube.
I didn’t realize how pitch black it was inside the tube and, as I released my fears, I screamed like a little girl the entire 15 seconds it took before I spilled out into the pool.
I laughed as I surfaced from the water.
No one heard my screams and I survived, silently vowing never to slide down the inside of a dark tube ever again.
I emerged from the pool with a smile, which — thanks to conquering my fear of going to the dentist — is a little brighter.