In my world, it's always time for fear.
Now that I can see how foundational it is about my perception of reality, I'm considering how I got here.
My best guess would be a combination of factors. My father was chronically, clinically depressed so, thanks genes. The weather. Being sexually abused. Being a woman with chronic, constant pain from a young age. Being a young mother with kids.
I watch men quite a bit, because I work with men, several of my closest friends are married to men, so yeah, lots of men around. Oh, movies and TV. Lots of men.
I do not want to dip into sterotypes here but I would say an easiness about life seems a main difference between men and women. Women seem preoccupied with our confusing bodies, pain, children we've birthed, our extended families. Men seem stressed often, but not preoccupied with things happening within or outside themselves, especially relationally.
When I think about my childhood, I remember mostly feeling very free and very adventuresome. I was extremely athletic and prided myself on being a tom-boy. I started a lawn-mowing business in late grade school. I worked hard to earn school letters. I had good grades.
The fear began to creep in when the abuse started. I remember also feeling unmoored by my painful periods that brought monthly panic and chaos, rounds of pain meds and being taken care of. I started to question my strength and abilities when I ended up sick at least once a month.
A pattern of helplessness or lack of initiative crept in. Taking a positive, strong attitude toward it all seemed impossible. I felt like I was drowning in confusion and pain. I did not see these things as obstacles to overcome. I began to see them as things that were starting to define me.
Pain as the definition of yourself twists all reality. It is a filter that makes risk-taking almost impossible, makes daily living more a means of survival and less about thriving.