One of The Best Things You Can Do With Your Irrational Fears

I have an irrational fear of being a bridesmaid.

Photo Credit: Cat Meyer, Creative Commons

I fainted during a ceremony a few years ago and ever since, when a friend has asked me to be in her wedding, I get flashbacks of blurry vision and wobbly knees.

The reason I fainted a few years back was because the ceremony took place outdoors, in the Texas heat, and it was long and, it turned out, I was sick. The perfect storm for a fainting bridesmaid.

A few weeks ago, I was in another friend’s wedding.

It was in Portland. It was indoors in an air-conditioned church. I was not sick. Yet, I was terrified I would faint again.

All day I had visions of falling to my knees in front of everybody, ruining the vows.

I saw myself being carried away by groomsmen, unable to fulfill my bridesmaid duties, and forced to lie on a couch in the back (this is what happened last time).

To add to my fear, the bride had asked me to sing during the wedding. Singing in front of people typically would not be a huge deal, but singing as a bridesmaid? This concerned me. During my rehearsal, the pianist warned me, as if she knew my history:

“Don’t faint. Singers faint.”

So do bridesmaids, I thought.

I walked back to the bridal room feeling queasy. My friend, the bride, asked if I was ok. I told her I was fine.

What bride needs to worry about her fainting-inclined bridesmaids on her wedding day?

We circled up to pray. When we were done, I felt like I should ask someone to pray for me. To pray that I wouldn’t faint, but I didn’t. That would be stupid, I told myself. No one needs to know I’m afraid right now. No one needs to know about my little, irrational fear.

Best to keep quiet.

So I said nothing.

I sat in the corner and sipped water and tried to have positive thoughts.

I hate asking for help. I hate asking for prayer. I hate asking for rides to the airport. I hate asking friends to help me move. I hate asking for anything in general, and if I am 5% capable of doing it on my own, I will.

But as soon as I stepped on stage during that wedding, I knew my fierce independence was going to get me nowhere that day but flat on my face.

There I stood in three-inch heels, a pink dress and fake smile and I could feel it. The fainting feelings. The blurry vision the nausea. My little irrational fear felt huge and insurmountable.

I needed help. So, I asked for it.

I scooted to the bridesmaid closest to me, who happened to be a nurse practitioner, and I told her I didn’t feel good, and I held onto her arm. I held onto her arm. In that moment, I needed someone to literally hold me.

I was not going to make it by myself because making it by myself would mean literally falling on my face. No, I was not going to be Independent Andrea today. I was going to be needy and fearful and desperate Andrea.

The Andrea I know all too well but rarely reveal to others.

Though I had only met this bridesmaid the night before at the rehearsal dinner, she let me hold onto her. She told me it would be ok. She reminded me to breathe. She didn’t shove me away or gawk. She was understanding of my little, irrational fear and she talked me through the ceremony.

And guess what? I didn’t faint.

Not when I sang the song. Not during the sermon. Not during the vows. I made it, standing the entire time, and it’s because I had an arm to hold onto. It’s because a nearly complete stranger was understanding and kind and gracious.

I made it because I admitted I couldn’t make it, and I asked for help.

If you’re like me—fiercely independent and ashamed of your secret neediness—I hope this story encourages you. I think if we independent types reached out to others more often and confessed our own inadequacies, we would find what I found in that bridesmaid: a gracious, kind and understanding response.

We would find that our weakness brings out the strength in others and that fear cannot often be conquered alone, but it can be conquered with a little help.