If You Fear It, Date It: How Conquering My Biggest Fear Taught Me to Love Bravely

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that dating forces you to confront parts of yourself you’d rather leave locked in Pandora’s box — insecurities, habits, weird quirks no one else needs to know. But for me, my real antagonist wasn’t heartbreak or awkward silences. No, my biggest fear was much larger, far scarier, and often found lurking in unexpected places: the ocean.

Yes, the ocean. Cue the dramatic music. Somewhere between growing up in Miami, with coastline views and pastel sunsets, and taking repeated field trips to the local aquarium, I developed a bone-deep terror of deep blue water. Blame it on a too-early screening of Jaws (thanks, Tito Carlos) or an overactive imagination, but my relationship with the ocean became a solid “it’s not me, it’s definitely you.”

Yet, overcoming that fear taught me more than I expected—not just about myself, but about relationships, courage, and taking literal and emotional plunges.

Love and Fear Are Basically the Same Thing

Have you ever really sat down and thought about how similar falling in love is to fear? Both involve sweaty palms, a racing heart, and the irrational urge to Google things like “Am I dying or just haunted?” (Spoiler: it’s just feelings.)

When a particularly adventurous boyfriend suggested we try snorkeling on a weekend trip to Key Largo, my first reaction was a very mature, “Absolutely not.” But here’s the thing—I liked him. A lot. The kind of like that makes you say “Sure!” to things you’d normally only say to if Beyoncé personally requested it. And suddenly, I was on a boat in a wetsuit, clutching a snorkel as if it were a life vest in Titanic.

The ocean stretched out before me, glittering and infinite, and I felt the same panic you might when someone drops the L-word too soon. What if I couldn’t handle it? What if I hated it? What if something (cue shark music) went absolutely terribly wrong?

But the boyfriend in question looked at me with soft encouragement, and I thought, “Okay. If I trust him, why can’t I trust myself?”

Fear, Like Relationships, Thrives on Control Issues

As I dipped a cautious toe into the water, it occurred to me how much of my life I try to control. From double-checking texts to crafting the perfect casual-but-not-too-casual first-date outfit (we’ve all stress-bought backup options, right?), there’s a safety in control. I realized a lot of my fear of the ocean was rooted here too. It was unpredictable, wild, un-tameable—the Tinder of natural geographic features.

But as I floated, awkward and still holding onto the boat ladder for dear life, a school of fish darted right underneath me. Bright, shimmering colors in impossible combinations, moving like they’d never questioned their flow. Something about that broke open a tiny door in my brain. I didn’t have to steer or fight the water; I just had to show up and float. Isn’t that a little like dating, too? Letting go, being present, and trusting that sometimes things will be messy, but they’ll also be beautiful?

Let Yourself Sink In (Metaphorically)

If you’re not the “headfirst dive into vulnerability” type, I get it. The first step into anything unknown—water, love, change—can feel like a betrayal of everything you’ve built to stay safe. But here’s the truth: staying “safe” is a great way to miss the good stuff.

For me, this meant finally relaxing, putting my face in the water, and (gasp) letting go of the boat ladder. You know what I saw? A coral reef so vibrant and alive it looked like something out of a Pixar movie. I’ll admit it—I cried a little. Not from fear, but from wonder. It hit me that I would have missed all of it had I stayed in my comfort zone. And man, isn’t that the lesson every rom-com tries to teach us by the third act?

What My Fear Taught Me About Love

After that snorkeling trip, I had a new respect for taking risks. I also learned that fear can teach you a lot—sometimes it’s a big neon sign about what matters to you. For years, I’d avoided swimming at the beach and deep-sea fishing trips, and not for lack of opportunity. When I got honest with myself, I realized my fear was less about sharks and more about being vulnerable.

Here are the takeaways I swam (literally) away with:

  1. You’re Stronger Than You Think. Whether it’s jumping into water that scares you or telling someone how you feel, you really don’t know what you’re capable of until you go for it.

  2. Control Is Overrated. Love, like the sea, doesn’t come with guarantees. Embrace the unknown. There’s beauty in letting yourself float.

  3. Vulnerability Is a Superpower. Being scared is part of being human, but opening yourself up? That’s next-level strength.

  4. Find Your Anchors. Whether they’re romantic partners or platonic soulmates, surround yourself with people who gently encourage you to step outside your comfort zone.

  5. Celebrate Small Wins. Did I become an avid scuba diver overnight? No. (Fish, to this day, still freak me out a little.) But one snorkeling trip taught me it’s okay to take small, brave steps.

The Bigger Love Lesson

Here’s the real kicker: I broke up with that boyfriend a few months later. It was mutual, but our relationship ran its course like a summer thunderstorm—powerful but fleeting. The fear I faced, though, stayed with me, not like a haunting, but like a badge of honor.

I can’t say I’m a mermaid now or a frequent visitor of shipwreck dives, but I can say I’ve learned to approach fear (and life) with a little more curiosity. Whether it’s a big scary ocean or a first date with someone who has questionable taste in sushi, I remind myself: What’s the worst that could happen? You survive—and maybe, just maybe, it’s better than you ever imagined.

So, what’s your ocean? What’s that thing you’ve been avoiding, whether it’s falling in love again or something as seemingly random as parasailing? Whatever it is, I hope you take the plunge—even if it’s messy. After all, every good adventure starts with a little leap.