“Fear is the opposite of love. Love is the absence of fear. Whatever you do out of fear will create more fear. Whatever you do out of love will create more love.” ~Osho
I did not realize I was driven by fear for most of my life.
I thought I was making choices from love by being good, responsible, kind, and successful. Looking back, I see how much of my life was organized around keeping myself safe, and that came from a place of fear.
From the outside, I looked successful, practical, and just fantastic at adult life. In the quiet moments, which I rarely allowed, I felt dull, disconnected, and like I was watching my life from the outside. I filled those voids and pushed away those feelings by doing. I had no idea that fear was in the driver’s seat. Fear spoke loudly and told me:
- Keep yourself small.
- Be careful about speaking up.
- Try to be as good as others.
- You’re not smart or good enough and need to work harder and do more.
- Love has to be earned by proving yourself.
And because I didn’t know it was fear, I listened. I thought these messages were the truth. I didn’t realize that I lacked the expansive, open power of self-love.
The Moment I Realized Fear Was Running My Life
I didn’t recognize fear until it had completely consumed me.
In March 2020, I sat on my bed, crying, shrouded in the shame of failure. My husband and young kids were on the other side of the door, and I was scared. I did not want to face them and be home with them through the pandemic lockdown,with no school or work as respite.
I feared that I would fail them, and that I could not hold it together to be the calm, loving mom and wife they needed.Mostly, I was scared of how being able to handle it. My alone time, as much as I was disconnected from myself and filled any quiet with noise and distraction, was when I recharged.
I had spent so much of my life striving, pushing, proving, and performing, desperate to be good enough.
But no matter how hard I worked or how much I achieved, it never felt like enough.
That day, as I sat there, exhausted and broken, a thought rose inside me:
“There has to be another way. I cannot go on like this.”
And then, through the heaviness, I heard a quiet voice:
“The work is inside you.”
That was the moment everything started to change. I pulled that inner thread, and for the first time, I slowed down enough to feel.
I let myself be still. I let myself sit with emotions I had spent a lifetime avoiding. Sadness, failure, shame, guilt, and resentment all rose to the surface. And as I unraveled, my heart started to open, and I realized that I had been living in a state of fear.
I had spent years thinking my way through fear, trying to control it with logic. But real understanding—real change—came when I started listening to my body and its quiet whispers.
Fear vs. Love
Once I learned how to connect with my body, I noticed:
- Fear is loud and demanding, while love is quiet and calm.
Fear creates internal pressure: “Hurry! Move! You’re late!”
Love is patient: “Take your time. The right answers are within you.” - Fear feels tight, restricted, and on edge, while love feels expansive, open, and at ease.
Fear comes with shallow breathing, tension in the shoulders, and a racing heart.
Love brings deep breaths, relaxed muscles, and a sense of wonder. - Fear lives in the mind, while love lives in the body.
Fear spins stories. Love is present. - Fear keeps you small, while love invites you to grow.
Fear says, “Stay where it’s safe.”
Love says, “Step forward. You can handle this.”
My biggest realization came with knowing that love doesn’t force or pressure or shame. I lived so many years feeling like I had to tread carefully and not make a mistake, or else I would be in trouble or be discovered as a fraud. This stemmed from childhood, where, as the oldest child, I didn’t want to cause problems for my parents. I know now that was straight out of fear’s playbook.
Shifting from Fear to Love
Fear will always be there. It’s part of being human. It’s not all bad. We want to feel fear when there’s real danger. But we don’t want it to be our mindset.
Here’s what I do now when I feel fear creeping in:
1. Get out of the mind and into the body.
You can’t think your way out of fear. Instead, I:
- Close my eyes.
- Take a deep breath, inhaling through my nose and sighing out of my mouth.
- Place a hand on my heart or belly.
- Notice the sensations in my body—tightness, warmth, buzzing, stillness.
- Ask myself, “What am I scared of?”
2. Notice the difference between fear’s voice and love’s voice.
When making a decision, I ask:
- Does this thought feel urgent, pressured, or heavy? That’s fear.
- Does this thought feel grounded, spacious, or light? That’s love.
3. Move through fear—don’t push it away.
Fear doesn’t disappear just because we wish it away. As researcher Jill Bolte Taylor says, with any emotion, if we can sit in it for sixty to ninety seconds without attaching a story or thought to it, the fear will pass. This can be uncomfortable and takes some practice.
Instead of avoiding fear, try saying:
“I see you. I know you’re trying to keep me safe. What do you want me to know?”
One morning, after forgetting my son’s backpack at school drop-off, I felt fear in the form of harsh self-criticism. It sat heavy in my gut. I asked it, “What do you want me to know?” It told me I was a failure. As I dialogued with it, I discovered that underneath the anger and pressure was exhaustion—and a part of me that needed rest and reassurance.
4. Make small choices from love.
We don’t have to make massive leaps. Even small shifts—choosing self-compassion over self-criticism, presence over anxiety, truth over avoidance—begin to rewire our nervous system.
Choosing Love, One Breath at a Time
I spent years letting fear run my life without realizing it.
I thought I had to think my way through everything. But the moment I dropped into my body, things changed. I am more present, compassionate, curious, appreciative, and embodied.
Now, when fear arises, I no longer try to silence it. I don’t fight it. I don’t shame myself for feeling it.
Instead, I breathe. I listen. I notice how it feels. And then I ask myself:
“Is this fear speaking? Or is this love?”
And whenever possible, I choose love.
