The Green-eyed Monster: Overcoming Fear in Relationships

Fear. It sounds exactly like what it means, doesn’t it? Some words don’t sound like their meaning to me, but fear—there’s something in the phonetics that gives you chills. It’s the great equalizer. Everyone has at least one fear, something held captive by the unknown or the possibility of pain.

Can you overcome fear in relationships? In a word: Yes. But how?

Let’s explore this together.

I’ve had plenty of fears in my life. Some rational—like fearing the dark after I got pushed back by something supernatural. Others? Not so much—like fearing rejection from people who hadn’t even hinted at rejecting me in the first place.

You see, I was a young mom. By 18, I had two children. For a long time, I feared being “discovered” as immature, and ill-equipped to be a good mother. So how did I overcompensate? By taking myself way too seriously. I remember being 21, talking with a lady at my daughter’s daycare. I could feel the strain—Am I laughing too hard? Smiling too much? Do I sound naive? What can I say that will make me sound extra adult? It was exhausting. I feared opinions. But it’s not opinions alone that ensnare us in the belly of fear—it’s what those opinions might determine about our lives.

If they think this, then what will happen.

That’s the crux of it. And a big ol’ valid crux, I might add.

Then came my breakthrough: There are only four kinds of people on this entire planet of approximately 8 billion people and counting. Just four.

Tribe (25%)
These are your ride-or-dies. They love you and always will. You could call them in the middle of the night, confess to a bar fight gone terribly wrong, and they’d show up with a shovel. Too morbid? Maybe. But the point is—they’re not going anywhere. They defend you in rooms you aren’t in and want you to win purely because your happiness makes them happy.

A snapshot of one of my tribe members? My brother Mark. He calls me Mariamarianna. Every time I leave his presence, I feel like a rocket ship. He says things like, “You’re living the dream, sis.” And he was saying this back when I was living in a one-bedroom apartment with my two children. Or our favorite saying: You got the sauce. 

Tribe members give you permission to be unapologetically you. They’re rare, like comets, lighting up the parts of you that need it most.

Tea (25%)
These people like you—but could be convinced otherwise. They teeter on the fence of admiration and quiet skepticism. They don’t mind you winning, as long as you don’t win more than them. If you start to surpass them, the subtle jabs come out: “Hopefully it goes well… that’s a lot of work.” Or the dreaded “Good for you.”

Listen, no grown adult wants to hear Good for you! after achieving something big. You want I’m so proud of you! That’s amazing! Enthusiasm is what “Tea people” lack. They’re here for the tea, for the gossip. And they’re silent when others are talking about you in a negative light. Silence is an act of agreement. Silence is abandonment.

Checkers (25%)
They don’t like you, don’t get you—but they could be convinced otherwise. They check on you. They watch your stories but never like anything. They ask about you to others but never directly to you. They’re curious but not sold. Ever met someone at a party who gives one-word answers, sipping their drink like it’s a $500 glass of cognac? That’s a Checker. They don’t even know why they don’t like you, so they collect data, hoping to justify their feelings.

Beware of Checkers. Relationships—whether friendship or otherwise—should be with people who chose you from the start. First round pick. Being in a “situationship” with someone who treated you like you were just normal at first? That manifests in a thousand little ways later. You deserve relationships where people look at you and think, Maybe you’re magic.

Mold (25%)
They don’t like you, and they never will. You are the thorn in their side. Your mere existence irks them. If you were dying and all you needed was a single crap to save your life—they would not give a crap.

And it’s almost funny. What’s the problem? What about my shine bothers you so much?

Moldy people don’t understand that lighting someone else’s candle doesn’t put out their own light. They think success is limited, that your seat at the table means there’s less room for them. But here’s the thing—some Moldy people aren’t even threatened by you. They’re just completely out of alignment with your frequency. You’re playing a song, and all they hear is static.

Ignore the mold. The only beast that survives is the one you feed.

Life is short—spend it with your Tribe.

Whew! Got that out. Are you still with me? Okay, I’ll make you a cup of tea while I wrap this up.

I overcame my fear by embracing this: If someone doesn’t like me, get me, or accept me—they’re just in that other 25%, and that’s okay. That’s okay.

Be bold. Be yourself. Let the jalapeño chips fall where they may. If someone walks away? The sun will keep shining, the clock will keep ticking, and you, dear reader, will continue to be the most unique, blessed person ever to grace this earth.

So, let’s challenge ourselves this week. Think of a fear—big or small. Picture yourself overcoming it. Imagine every step and facet. Immerse yourself in what it looks like for you to overcome that fear—minimum ten-minute daydream. Put on a soundscape, time yourself, and escape into barrier-breaking thoughts with me.

Until next time,
Maria 🌹

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Palm Trees and Fog

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Eat the Cake First: The Art of Living in the Present While Building the Future