Turn the Lights On

When I was three years old, I begged my parents to let me watch Jurassic Park. They told me I would get too scared and that it wasn’t a good idea. Nonetheless, that night when they rented the VHS, I snuck out of my room and watched from down the hallway.

It only took a few minutes to prove my parents correct because I happened to sneak out right before the T-Rex scene. Watching that behemoth chase those kids down and then rip that guy out of the porta-potty was enough to send me scurrying back to bed, swearing to never watch the dinosaurs again.

A few months later, we went to Disney World, and little did I know, I’d be reliving that terrifying scene from the movie.

I was excited as we took our seats in the strangely familiar Jeep, so excited that I insisted on sitting by myself in the back row. With four kids at Disney, this wasn’t a battle my dad was willing to fight, so he shrugged, and with a hiss and a clank, the jeep lurched forward and the ride began.

As we rolled through the jungle, listening to the sounds of various dinosaurs on the other side of the fence, things looked eerily familiar. Then, as our jeep went through a hole in the giant fence, the lights went out and the music changed. When the lightning flashed, we saw the silhouette of the great Tyrannosaurus Rex against the nearby trees.

Everybody on the ride faced forward, toward the front of the jeep, except me, in the back row, alone. The jeep sped up momentarily, as if running from something, before coming to an abrupt halt. I opened my eyes, not even realizing I’d closed them, and standing before me was my living nightmare, a life-size, and in my mind, extremely real T-Rex.

I screamed. I cried. I peed my pants.

Moments later, the ride was over. Not because it had concluded, but because my screams of terror and pleas to stop had finally convinced the operators to shut it down.

Since they’d turned all the lights on, the magic was ruined for everyone on our expedition. They had to escort everyone out in groups, and since we were in the back, we were left until the end. So we sat, surrounded by fake jungle and still only feet away from the giant robot T-Rex.

The longer I sat, the less afraid I became. After a minute, I worked up the courage to look up at the T-Rex. In the light, it seemed smaller, cheaper, almost funny. I knew I was in trouble, so I didn’t dare laugh, but I leaned forward to get a better look.

Its teeth were menacing, but very clearly plastic. Its claws were huge, but visibly dull. As I looked in its eyes, I didn’t see an evil creature, I just saw a toy. I couldn’t believe I was so afraid of something so fake. I leaned back and asked my dad, “It’s not even real, is it?”

After a pause, my dad turned to me and my brother and said, “Usually, our biggest fears get a lot less scary when we turn the lights on.”

We all have things that seem scary, daunting, or downright terrifying in our lives. A typical response is to “hide under the covers,” so to speak, and avoid those things at all costs. However, when we pull the covers up, it’s impossible to let any light in, and we know now that our fears seem a lot smaller in the light.

Shedding light on our fears can happen in a number of ways. We can start by naming our fear outright, calling out what it is and why we’re afraid of it. Clarity shrinks fear. We can also replace assumptions with information.

We can move from “everyone will laugh at me” to “everyone is actually concerned about the same thing.”

We can move closer to our fear. You may not fully overcome it, but you can chip away at it. Write one page of your book and share it online, join a new gym or social club, or ask a question instead of holding it in. Things are less frightening up close.

When I got home from Disney World, I begged my parents to let me watch Jurassic Park again. This time, they relented, since it couldn’t be worse than what happened on the ride. When the T-Rex scene started, instead of hiding under my blankets, I scooted closer to the TV and cheered when it tore the roof off the porta-potty.

I decided that day that when I grew up, I wanted to be a paleontologist and spend my life digging up T-Rex bones.

Nothing about the T-Rex changed. I just needed to see it in the light.

Fact

Studies show that uncertainty activates the brain’s fear center more than known negative outcomes, meaning we often fear the unknown more than actual risk.

Action

Write down one fear you’ve been avoiding and take one small step toward it today.

Question

Where in your life are you “sitting in the dark” instead of turning the lights on?

Quote

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” - Nelson Mandela