Fear Has a Way of Feeling Bigger in the Dark
When Logic Isn’t Enough
Lying there in the dark, I tried to reason with myself.
No one is in the house.
You’re safe.
This is irrational.
Just go back to sleep.
But my body didn’t care.
Fear doesn’t respond to logic when it’s already activated.
It responds to experience.
And in that moment, my system needed something simple.
It needed light.
No one is in the house.
You’re safe.
This is irrational.
Just go back to sleep.
But my body didn’t care.
Fear doesn’t respond to logic when it’s already activated.
It responds to experience.
And in that moment, my system needed something simple.
It needed light.
Turning the Light On Changed Everything
Eventually, I got out of bed.
I walked out of the bedroom.
I turned on the lights throughout the house.
And just like that — nothing was there.
The fear didn’t disappear because I thought my way out of it.
It dissolved because my body received new information.
The dark couldn’t hold the story once the light was on.
And I realized something important:
Fear often survives in what we don’t look at.
I walked out of the bedroom.
I turned on the lights throughout the house.
And just like that — nothing was there.
The fear didn’t disappear because I thought my way out of it.
It dissolved because my body received new information.
The dark couldn’t hold the story once the light was on.
And I realized something important:
Fear often survives in what we don’t look at.
Fear Isn’t Weakness — It’s Activation
We’re taught, often subtly, that fear is something to overcome.
That if we’re “strong enough,” we won’t feel it.
That fear means we’re regressing.
That we should push past it.
But fear is not a character flaw.
It’s a physiological response.
The nervous system doesn’t ask,
Is this logical?
It asks,
Is this safe?
And when safety feels uncertain, fear steps in.
That if we’re “strong enough,” we won’t feel it.
That fear means we’re regressing.
That we should push past it.
But fear is not a character flaw.
It’s a physiological response.
The nervous system doesn’t ask,
Is this logical?
It asks,
Is this safe?
And when safety feels uncertain, fear steps in.
The Freeze Response No One Talks About
Fear doesn’t always show up as panic.
Sometimes it shows up as:
This is the freeze response — and it’s incredibly misunderstood.
Freeze isn’t weakness.
It’s the body trying to protect itself when fight or flight don’t feel available.
And many of us live here more often than we realize.
Sometimes it shows up as:
- hesitation
- avoidance
- procrastination
- staying small
- waiting for the “right moment”
This is the freeze response — and it’s incredibly misunderstood.
Freeze isn’t weakness.
It’s the body trying to protect itself when fight or flight don’t feel available.
And many of us live here more often than we realize.
How This Shows Up for Me in Real Life
One of the fears that continues to show up for me is being seen.
Which is ironic — because my work, both as an actor and a speaker, is public.
I show up on stages.
I show up on camera.
I show up online.
And yet, there’s always a part of me that hesitates.
If I could hide, I would.
That fear doesn’t come from logic.
It comes from old stories:
Things I can’t control.
Things that never fully disappear.
Which is ironic — because my work, both as an actor and a speaker, is public.
I show up on stages.
I show up on camera.
I show up online.
And yet, there’s always a part of me that hesitates.
If I could hide, I would.
That fear doesn’t come from logic.
It comes from old stories:
- Am I attractive enough?
- Do I look okay on camera?
- What will people think?
Things I can’t control.
Things that never fully disappear.
Turning the Light On Looks Like Showing Up Anyway
Here’s what I’ve learned.
Every time I do the thing that scares me — gently, imperfectly — something softens.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
But enough.
There’s relief.
There’s more self-acceptance.
There’s more self-trust.
The fear doesn’t vanish.
But it loses authority.
Because my body learns:
I survived this.
I can be seen.
Nothing bad happened.
That’s how safety is built.
Every time I do the thing that scares me — gently, imperfectly — something softens.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
But enough.
There’s relief.
There’s more self-acceptance.
There’s more self-trust.
The fear doesn’t vanish.
But it loses authority.
Because my body learns:
I survived this.
I can be seen.
Nothing bad happened.
That’s how safety is built.
Why Avoidance Keeps Fear Alive
Avoidance feels protective.
But it teaches the nervous system one thing:
This is dangerous.
So the fear grows.
The story expands.
The threshold lowers.
When we never turn the light on, the imagination fills in the gaps.
Fear thrives in ambiguity.
It softens in clarity.
But it teaches the nervous system one thing:
This is dangerous.
So the fear grows.
The story expands.
The threshold lowers.
When we never turn the light on, the imagination fills in the gaps.
Fear thrives in ambiguity.
It softens in clarity.
Facing Fear Doesn’t Mean Forcing Yourself
This part matters.
Turning the light on doesn’t mean throwing yourself into the deep end.
It doesn’t mean pushing past your limits.
It doesn’t mean overriding your body.
It means meeting fear with presence instead of resistance.
Sometimes that looks like:
This is embodiment.
This is regulation.
This is how fear integrates instead of calcifies.
Turning the light on doesn’t mean throwing yourself into the deep end.
It doesn’t mean pushing past your limits.
It doesn’t mean overriding your body.
It means meeting fear with presence instead of resistance.
Sometimes that looks like:
- taking one small step
- staying with the sensation
- allowing the body to feel and complete the response
- offering reassurance instead of judgment
This is embodiment.
This is regulation.
This is how fear integrates instead of calcifies.
The Light Doesn’t Judge — It Just Reveals
When I turned on the lights that night, nothing needed fixing.
There was no intruder.
No danger.
No threat.
Just space.
And that’s what presence does.
It reveals what’s actually here.
Not what fear imagines.
Not what stories project.
Just what is.
There was no intruder.
No danger.
No threat.
Just space.
And that’s what presence does.
It reveals what’s actually here.
Not what fear imagines.
Not what stories project.
Just what is.
Final Reflection: What Are You Afraid to Look At?
Fear doesn’t always need conquering.
Sometimes it just needs witnessing.
What if the thing you’re avoiding isn’t as dangerous as it feels?
What if turning toward it brings relief instead of harm?
What if the light is kinder than the dark?
You don’t need to rush.
You don’t need to force.
You don’t need to be fearless.
You just need to turn the light on.
Sometimes it just needs witnessing.
What if the thing you’re avoiding isn’t as dangerous as it feels?
What if turning toward it brings relief instead of harm?
What if the light is kinder than the dark?
You don’t need to rush.
You don’t need to force.
You don’t need to be fearless.
You just need to turn the light on.
Sara Mitich
Actor | Speaker
Founder of Gratitude & Growth
Creator of The R_SET™ Method
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