In nature, when an animal is fearful, its life is threatened. Instinctively, it fights, flees, or freezes.

We have those same instincts, but our fears aren’t always life-threatening. Instead, we can feel emotionally or psychologically threatened. We can become fearful when we encounter something new and different or when something we’ve been doing changes suddenly, and we now have to re-invent ourselves or our process.

We can be triggered by an object, a noise, or an event. No one person shares the exact same fears. Our fears are as individual as our fingerprints. We may both fear big dogs, but our fear is born out of our unique experiences.

Another kind of fear is the fear of hurting or disappointing someone. So, we live via the beliefs they have for our lives rather than living our own lives because we don’t want to be criticized for being different. The thing is, they want us to live like them! To be the same as them.

My mother was artistic, creative, and loved anything Hollywood. She knew of the best movies and books and encouraged my interests that were aligned with hers. Her recommendations were spot on.

My father was practical. He pushed me into a safe career, one that I had no passion for and found boring—secretarial work.

At 19, having graduated from a business college and working my extremely boring first full-time job as a secretary, I enrolled in a mail-order writing class. I was told I was wasting my time and my money, and that nothing would come of it. Told this between having sent my money in and waiting for the materials to arrive.

In secret, saying nothing to anyone, I began the class lessons, writing my first book, How to Get Along With Difficult People. Decades later, I realized how that title spoke volumes. I still have that half-finished manuscript on my shelf.

A few years later, I started writing essays, again which I kept it secret. Finally, I shared some of them with Lynn, my then best friend, only because I needed to know if I was any good.

She laughed at different points and said they reminded her of Erma Bombeck. She cheered me on and was the first to say, “Go for it.” So, I approached our local newspaper, proposing a column, and what started as a six-month weekly trial turned into a weekly five-year gig.

As I journeyed along my writing career, venturing into new genres and mediums, and then returned to school mid-life to merge my two passions—writing and teaching—into an academic career, there were naysayers all along the way.

“You’re writing a book? But you don’t have any experience or education.” No, I didn’t. But, I did it anyway. And, I got published.

“You’re writing screenplays? You know nothing about Hollywood.” No, I didn’t. But, I learned and in the process taught others and watched as a few of them got their scripts produced. And then, I optioned one myself.

“You’re going back to school? You’ll be retiring soon.” I did it anyway, saying, “I’ll be retiring with degrees.” Once I began teaching college writing classes—academic, business, and creative—I was in my happy place. The years of sacrifice as a full-time student while working full time was totally worth the career I experienced afterward.

At different points, someone would say, “You’re fearless. You don’t let roadblocks stop you.”

They had no idea how fear-filled I was at every turn. Plus, I failed, oh, so many times.

Reams of rejections from agents, publishers, and producers. And later, my language exams—twice. Then, half of my final written exams for that last degree. So many times, I came close to total failure and was down to my last attempt to pass. I passed, but it was never pretty. I was always reminded of my dissertation chair’s words: Don’t go for perfection. Just get it done.

And then, when indie publishing arrived, I hung back and watched, fearful I’d be overwhelmed and fail at publishing my own books. But, finally, I buckled down and learned. It was a slow, agonizing process. Just as any new endeavor is in the beginning.

Where others see only my successes, I still remember the fears that ran alongside those successes.

In one of her newsletters, Becca Syme, author, coach, and owner of the Better-Faster Academy, mimicked a keystone truth of mine, saying, “Fear is meant to move you, not stop you.”

Brad Pitt’s character in World War Z said, “If you want to survive, you have to move.”

Having watched so many sacrifice their desires to their fears, never moving, I moved through fear, unwilling to buckle under what others thought I should be doing. I didn’t want to live a Zombie-like existence, which would have led to a life full of regrets.

I battled and smashed through my fears. The hard times provided lessons to be learned, which when learned allowed me to forge ahead with changes, readjustments, or reinventing myself. Something I’ve done half a dozen times. Even with my writing and exploring multiple genres and different points of view.

Eventually, I’ll find my readers. I refuse to give in to the fear that they may never find me.

Fear and success. Two sides of the same coin.

Got fears? Do it anyway. Go for it!