Personal Reflection
Truth has teeth. Every time I’ve stepped closer to it, fear has risen up like a wall—heart pounding, voice shaking, every excuse begging me to turn back. But fear isn’t a signal to retreat; it’s proof you’re on the right road. The lies are comfortable, the illusions easy. They let you keep your mask on, let you keep the story neat and unchallenged. But truth doesn’t care about neat—it tears at you, strips away the performance, and demands you face what’s been rotting underneath.
I used to think fear meant I was weak, that it was a sign I wasn’t ready. Now I see it differently. Fear is the body’s last defense against transformation, a warning flare that something inside is about to break open. And if you stay, if you breathe through it instead of running, the fear always gives way—to clarity, to freedom, to the kind of brutal honesty that can finally set you loose.
Reflective Prompt
What truth have you avoided because it scared you? What would change if you faced it head-on?
Memoirs of Madness 