Burning Beneath

Fear is a powerful thing. It shapes us, dictates our choices, and often keeps us from stepping beyond the boundaries we’ve unconsciously drawn for ourselves. But what if fear had no hold on me? What if I could strip it away, even just for a moment, and see myself as I truly am—unrestrained, unburdened, limitless?

The first thing that comes to mind is traveling the world in a van. Not just a cross-country road trip, not just a continent or two, but the entire world. I imagine waking up in the middle of nowhere, in a desert, in a rainforest, on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the whole of existence stretching before me. But in the back of my mind, there’s always that relentless whisper—a reminder that I have an illness, one that could strike at any moment. And what if it did? What if I were alone, miles away from help, and no one was there to save me? That fear has always been there, an invisible chain keeping me tethered, making me second-guess how far I can go. But if I wasn’t afraid? I would just go. I would trust the road, trust my body, trust that I can handle whatever comes.

Then there’s my voice. Speaking up, loudly, unapologetically. There are so many times I have bitten my tongue, hesitated, let the weight of potential consequences keep me silent. Especially in today’s political climate, where opinions are dissected, where standing up for something can mean putting a target on your back. But if fear were no longer a factor, I would fight. I would march for consumer rights, for fair wages, for a world where people aren’t forced to work two or three jobs just to scrape by. Because what kind of life is that? How is it acceptable that survival itself has become a privilege?

If I wasn’t afraid, I would push for real change. I would propose legislation, submit bills—why shouldn’t the workweek be four days, five hours a day with wages that actually keep up with inflation? Why shouldn’t every family be guaranteed a minimum income that ensures basic human dignity? We live in a world of abundance, yet people are drowning under the weight of poverty and exhaustion, working themselves into the ground just to keep the lights on. And for what? For corporations to hoard more wealth, for billionaires to amass fortunes they will never even spend? If I had no fear, I would challenge that system. I would demand better.

And war. The wars we are told are necessary. The conflicts orchestrated by hands we cannot see, played out like a chess game where human lives are nothing more than disposable pawns. If I wasn’t afraid, I would stand at the top of my lungs and scream against it all—against the deception, against the greed, against the quiet manipulation that keeps us divided while those in power pull the strings. We are played against each other, kept distracted, while the world is shaped in ways that only serve the elite. If fear wasn’t holding me back, I would pull back the curtain and expose the truth.

But the reality is, fear does exist. And maybe it always will. Maybe it’s not something that can be completely erased, only faced, over and over again.

So the real question is not just what would I do if I wasn’t afraid? but what can I do despite the fear?

Maybe I won’t wait until I feel fearless to start. Maybe I will take the first step now—one small defiance at a time, one act of courage after another—until fear no longer holds the power it once did.