My insides are all knotted, my hearing fades into a dull buzz, and all I smell is the stink of chlorine. I’m six years old, and it’s the first day of my swimming lesson. I see lifeguards on their chairs scouring the water for any indication of drowning. The sun is beating down on me, yet I start to shiver. My dad encourages me by murmuring in my ear, but I can’t hear anything. My heart is pounding out of my chest and I feel the blood rush up to my face. The instructor motions to me, and I try to walk, but my feet feel like bricks. I shuffle my way to the edge of the pool and the instructor smiles at me. She knows I’m afraid, I mean it’s written all over my face. She holds out her hand, and I grab it for dear life.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

I squeak out, “Ekta.”

She replies, “That’s so pretty and unique.”

In that moment, I actually smile. When she talks, it sounds like a lullaby: soft, musical, and full of truth.
As we wait for more kids to arrive, I stare at the glistening, blue water. The instructor is watching me, and I try to a force a smile, but I’m sure it just looks like a twisted expression. I’m imagining a shark swiftly cutting through the water, gaining speed, coming right at me. But before I can even shake this nightmare, I’m carried into the pool, and I grab the side of the pool with a death grip.

My instructor says, “I’m sure many of you are nervous, but when you open your eyes under the water with goggles, you’ll see that there is nothing to be afraid of.”

She wants each of us to hold our breath for as long as we can and just look at what is underneath the surface. I want to tell her I’m not ready, but before I get the chance, we’re already under.

My eyes are squeezed shut, I barely have any air in my lungs, I want to scream! She’s holding my hands and starts to stroke my cheek, coaxing me to take a peek. After a few moments, I realize if I just open my eyes, we’ll finally go up for air. I crack them open and see her, clear as day. The surrounding water looks like a kaleidoscope with light reflected in different angles and colors. It looks like a dream, a fairytale; a magnificent world where anything is possible. I finally let myself feel the water, and it’s gentle and powerful, smooth and rough, all at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After this experience, my fear for the water began to crumble. My childhood was littered with swimming lessons, river tubing, boating, and snorkeling. Each instance helped build my faith and resolve in my ability to overcome the fear of water. It didn’t vanish all at once, but rather, each interaction with water made me more comfortable and increase my confidence. That is how people can overcome fear; the more people become exposed to what they are afraid of, the less they will become afraid. Childhood fears are often fears that remain throughout a person’s lifetime. However, if we tackle our fears as a child, just as we grow up to be adults, we will also be able to grow out of our fears.

Once I hit the age of seventeen, I got my first job as a lifeguard. I trained for weeks to pass the physical test and studied vigorously to pass the CPR, first aid, and lifeguarding written exams. I wanted this job, no, I needed this job, the way people need oxygen to breathe. This job was a challenge, and I thrived on it. I was able to help other children fall in love with swimming or make them less afraid. It was a form of therapy, where my mind and body became accustomed to being in the water all the time. Even though in my case, I decided to attack my fear head on, and explore how I could overcome it, but not all people need to do that. People can be exposed to fear as a child and then never deal with it again. It all depends on the type of person; I am a person who challenges myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The skin on my face is flapping backward, my mouth is squeezed shut, and my hair is whipping around in circles. I’m on a small boat flying across the water at an insane speed, headed to a scuba site.

I’m studying the water, trying to find the other side of the shore, but I know that the ocean is virtually unending. That’s probably what scares me the most: that there are things in the world that are gigantic and monumental, and that I’m small and insignificant.

I’m having doubts. All I can think about are the millions of ways that anything and everything could go wrong on this dive. My dive computer could freeze up, my regulator could malfunction, I could lose sight of the group, or I end up just panicking, which is the likeliest result.

We’ve reached the dive site, and all the divers on the boat, including myself, are getting the equipment ready. One diver takes out speakers and starts blasting music:

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion

I pause, take a seat, and listen to the entire song. I’ve never heard it before, but it’s beautiful. And it hits me right in the heart, sending chills from head to toe. It was the emotion that oozed out of the lyrics; the sincerity and truth that came from the singer. The small boat represents me, and I’m able to make an impact, the way a boat creates waves in the ocean. If I hadn’t heard that song before the first dive, I don’t think I would have been able to go through with it. I think I would have psyched myself out and dug up a reason to back out. But that song empowered me. Made me realize that even though I’m just one person, I can do a lot. And the first thing I needed to do was face my fears and not let those get in the way of my goals. Every decision I make has an impact, and I will use that impact to make myself strong.

Those lyrics made me fearless, courageous, and powerful. Now, whenever I have doubts, I think of those lyrics, and they always get me through any situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After my first scuba dive, I got open water scuba certified. The whole experience and sport was exhilarating; it made my heart skip a beat with nervousness, my blood catch on fire with excitement, and my heart explode with happiness.

Fear does different things to different people. For some people, fear becomes a restriction, a titanium wall that can’t be broken, but for others, fear becomes a challenge and a stimulus. Either way, a person can decide how they want to respond to fear. It is not wrong to be fearful, but rather, it is better to learn to cope with fears. People who have phobias of spiders or heights still have a normal life; those fears don’t get in the way of any big goals. But people who are afraid of the leaving the house, can never live a normal life. Had I not been exposed to my fear at a young age, I undoubtedly would still be terrified of the water. Identifying the fears you have, and then working to tackle them is rewarding. To this day, I have not eradicated my fear. It is still there, at the back of my mind, tugging, trying to come free, but I don’t let it define me. I fight against it, to make myself better, to make progress.

The best decision people can make with respect to fear is facing it head on during childhood. Once a fear is handled as a child, it can be managed in adulthood. After a fear is dealt with, people gain the emotions of courage and bravery, which is the ultimate reward. Different people respond to fear in various ways, but the best way to respond to it is to face it head on.