Once upon a time, I ran for a position in my Robotics club. Long story short, I wasn’t elected. So, I ran again, at a different election, for a similar position. Didn’t get that one, either.
Those were dark days for me. I had spent weeks preparing what I would say to my peers. Determining how I could serve them and how I would express it. But when the time came to give my speech, I froze. I lost all trains of thought and was overcome with nausea. And despite my willingness and preparedness, I had no official position of leadership that year.
Now has come the time. Tomorrow, actually. Tomorrow is the day when I will face my fears.
I cried, see. I was very upset. I couldn’t contain my hurt, and I ran out to the car to have some kind of privacy. (This sounds very petty of me, and I can’t justify why it wasn’t without getting into particulars, which I don’t feel like doing. So trust that I wasn’t crying without some kind of emotional provocation.)
When we announced elections this year, I wasn’t going to run. In my experience, those elected were elected based on popularity. I had witnessed it more than five times. I didn’t want to be in that vulnerable position again. In fact, the whole event has been so unfortunately traumatic for me that it would take something more important to get me to run.
My friend asked me to run for a position within the new committee we’ve established. I said I’d think about it, but I eventually agreed, after continuously exhausting any possibility of more popular opposition. In fact, everything was set to go very well; there were two people running for the two spots I was running for; about three for another position with two spots; and only one for the head of the committee.
The one running uncontested was my friend. And as I reflected over the past months, I became more and more nervous about his running without any conflict. It was some sort of guarantee. From everything that I had observed, he needed someone to run against him. To be a threat of sorts. To make him think beyond where he had been thinking.
An unfortunate bout of miscommunication prevented me from talking to him. After wondering what I could do to help him–because he is my friend, and I honestly think he is one of the best choices for heading up this committee–I realized I had to do something that I was terrified of.
I had to run for the position myself.
After the last election, where I was pitted against both him and another member; where I had lost in both arenas and had felt misunderstood and a myriad of other nasty emotions; nothing could tempt me to run for this head position. I am going to be incredibly busy this school year. I have many responsibilities weighing on me. Above all, I did not want to run and be put down again, whether my fear is justified or not.
But watching my friend’s attitude and demeanor slowly change from what I’d known it to be; that was apparently enough incentive for me to run for a position I was afraid to run for.
Tomorrow, I face my fear. I will look into a sea of faces, of people I know and care about and desire to see grow. I will state my case, I will wait, and I will be able to face any kind of acceptance or rejection.
Possibly most reassuring of all, my friend does not feel I have stabbed him in the back, which was an accompanying fear.
So sometime, I will let you all know what happened. And let you know what fear looks like when it’s been crushed beneath love.
Also, the Blimey Cow video is kind of unrelated; it’s just hilarious.