From quiet duty to bold living.

What fears have you overcome and how?

What Fears Have I Overcome?

Fear doesn’t always arrive with drama. Sometimes, it’s a quiet thread, woven into tradition, expectation, or the roles we play without question.

For years, I lived in a way that kept the peace—fulfilling the needs of others, respecting family duty, doing what was expected of me. But something within me started to stir. A sense that maybe I could live differently. That maybe I already knew who I was underneath the layers of compromise.

One of the first fears I had to let go of was the fear of disappointing others. I wasn’t encouraged to make my own life choices when I was younger, and it left a mark. But in choosing to move, to live with freedom and presence, I realised: I can honour where I come from and still step fully into who I’m meant to be.

There was also a fear that by embracing change and carving a new path, I might outgrow my roots. I now understand I haven’t outgrown anything—I’ve grown within it. My culture and upbringing are part of me, not something I’ve left behind. But they no longer define or confine me.

Judgment used to hold a strong grip. Whether it came from people in my circle or the wider community, I felt it—especially when I dressed boldly or shared my joy openly. But I’ve stopped waiting for permission. I’ve realised that living quietly to avoid judgment is a slow way to disappear. I won’t do that anymore.

Grief also shaped me deeply. Losing my brother, and later my father, cracked something open. I feared being overwhelmed by the sadness. But instead, I discovered resilience. I learned to carry grief with softness, not resistance. I let it teach me. And I’ve come through it more aware, more awake.

Then came the fear of starting again. Moving to London, surrounded by boxes and things in storage, was unsettling. My life felt scattered—across places, timelines, emotions. But even in the overwhelm, I sensed freedom. I was no longer just fulfilling a role—I was becoming.

Today, I’m not free from fear. But I’m no longer led by it. I trust my voice. I trust my instincts. I live with more lightness, more truth.

And that, I think, is the most powerful kind of freedom.