Friday morning, rushing through my morning routine, I threw together an overnight bag for a girls’ night weekend getaway to Green Bay with one of my dearest friends, Jocelyn. Our trip was centered on going away for a Beth Moore live event, and we thought it would be a great reason to get away from the normal day-to-day for some girl time.

Truth be told, I have been known to be an emotional person. The first movie I remember crying during was Bambi {I’m not crying…you’re crying…} When I have highs, I am really high. But when the lows hit, the valleys seem to be bottomless pits.

The world moves by stories. For thousands of years, we have been taught the traditions of our cultures through stories of those who have gone before us. We are moved, compelled, and entertained by stories. Aesop shared fables, short stories with poignant lessons. Shakespeare shared theatrical sagas with thick plots and unexpected twists.

Then there is fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of making the wrong choice and being shamed for your failure. Fear “they” were all right all along (whoever “they” are). Fear you won’t be able to pay the bills. Fear you will be seen, not for your valid contributions, but your shortcomings—fear of your own insecurities and lack of knowledge.

My alarm rings in my ear. I turn over my phone to see 5:30 am staring back at me as I swipe right to dismiss the melodious tune. I stir myself awake, peeking through my eyelids, the sun glimmering through my drapes. I start thinking through the day. I wrestle with picking up my phone first thing and start scrolling through my feeds. My mind becomes more alert and sits my body upright.