My Fear’s Named Chad.
He smokes cigarettes, shaves his chest, and still uses a tanning bed. Chad likes cats, cruise ship food, and itchy sweaters. We don’t have anything in common.
He calls me “Bro.” A lot.
Chad is a chud.
He’s obnoxiously loud, aggressive, and annoying. Chad believes in complacency, comfort, and taking the easy way out. He loves to procrastinate and uses perfectionism as an avenue for such.
He is stifling and overbearing. He tries to smother me, but he (almost) never wins. Unless it comes to skydiving, Chad and I are definitely on the same page when it comes to skydiving. He’s like, “Why would you do that Bro?” and I’m like, “I am SO with you, Dude.”
Chad pokes me in the chest when he wants my attention. He tries to talk me out of every idea I ever have. He’d rather play beer pong or go to a foam party than try something new.
I’ve buried Chad alive before, but he crept out of his tomb like the zombies in the Thriller video and started dancing around me. The good news is we both know the entire Thriller dance so we had a lot of fun after his escape.
I got caught up in the moment. We high-fived and heartily laughed about how awesome it was. Yet, still, there was my Chad. I could not keep him away
I thought if I could completely eliminate Chad from my life then I would be free. I’ve certainly tried my damnedest to banish him, but what I’ve come to realize is that Chad can be an okay fellow (at times). Although I like to talk shit about him because he is usually a total bonehead, Chad has surely kept me out of danger a few times. He’s always there urging me to be super aware of my surroundings when I’m walking through a dimly lit parking garage late at night and he is right by my side to validate me when I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach about something. He can be a real lifesaver, that Chad.
I can’t rid my life of Chad. He’ll always be with me, and that’s okay. What I’ve learned is that I don’t have to listen to him or even pay him any mind when I know that he doesn’t have my best interests at heart. It’s taken me a while to get a handle on our relationship, but I’m finally in a good place with my Chad. Chad can’t control me unless I let him.
Be friends with your fear (and learn the Thriller dance),
Miss Sarah B.
Sarah Blackman © 2017