I used to be afraid of the dark. As a young girl I would lay in bed and grip the blankets at the sight of my dressing gown hanging from the back of the door. I would see shapes and shadows crawling across the walls, and I would hear bumps in the night that made my heart roar.
I used to be afraid of the dark. I was afraid of the things I couldn’t see, and the things I could see. I was afraid of the monsters crouching in the corners, and slippery fingers rising up from beneath the stairs. I was afraid of glancing out a dark window, and seeing a face peering right back at me.
I used to sleep with a sheet covering my legs every night, no matter how much sweat my body shed. I used to run up the stairs as fast as I could, the second I turned off the light. And I used to listen to music for hours, my eyes shut and oblivious to the darkness around me, until it put me to sleep.
I used to be afraid of the dark. But now that I’m older, yet still quite young, I find myself feeling less afraid. I know that all my fears were rational, but they don’t just dwell in the dark.
You see, the monsters are real. They just come in different shapes and sizes. They come in the shapes of people you trust and people you care about. They come in the shape of a kind stranger who becomes more than a friend, or a girl who pretends to love you. They come in the shapes of humans and heartbreak and betrayal and hurt and lust and impulses and stupid decisions. The monsters dwell in the dark, but they dwell in the light too.
But I’m not afraid of the light. Because despite the monsters lurking behind every corner and false hope, I see warmth. I see sunshine and grass and skies filled with clouds and birds and rain. I hear not suspicious sounds or threatening noises. No, I hear laughter and voices and vehicles and leaves and crashing waves and falling rain.
One day I realised that light and dark really aren’t so unlike.
It’s just the daytime has sunshine, and the nighttime has stars.
Why should I be scared of something so permanent? Why should I live my life in fear of the things I cannot see, and the things that hide in plain sight?
I’m no longer scared of the dressing gown on the back of the door, or the dressing gown I see in my memories. I’m no longer scared of kind strangers who turn into something more, or the mysterious bumps in the middle of the night.
I love the dark. I love watching the stars blossom as dusk turns to night, and I love feeling the cool evening breeze washing over my skin.
I love the light. I love watching the sun rising from beyond the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink, orange and yellow, and I love feeling the sunshine tasting my skin.
But maybe it’s foolish to push away these rational fears, to lock them in a trunk and throw away the key. They say ignorance is bliss, but can’t bliss be achieved some other way?
For me, bliss is achieved by facing those fears. By standing out in the dark and staring the moon in the eye. By confronting your past and revealing truths in the light. By staying out until dawn, and watching the dark transform to light. For me, bliss has been achieved, and I am no more ignorant than I was as a young girl. I have accepted those fears. I know they’ll always be there, but I also know that I can beat them.
Yeah, I used to be afraid of a lot of things.
Especially the dark.
But now I love the night.
And I love the light too.
Still afraid of spiders though. They’re fucking scary.
