Few things make my palms sweat like standing at the edge of a rocky outcrop, waves battering the cliffs below. It’s not just the height—though I definitely don’t love the thought of tumbling into the Atlantic. It’s the vulnerability of it all. You can see everything: the shimmer of the horizon, the seabirds weaving through the wind, the endless possibility of falling—or flying. That’s what fear is, isn’t it? The simultaneous awareness of what you could lose and what you might gain if you’re brave enough to lean into it.

And let me tell you, dating is my personal cliff.

Fear of dating might not make for a sweeping cinematic moment, but it definitely comes with its own brand of vertigo. The stakes feel high—your heart, your hopes, your dignity (oh, how we clutch to that one!). But here’s what I’ve learned, both from hiking precarious cliffsides and diving headfirst into heart stuff: the trick isn’t to avoid what scares you. It’s to lace up your boots, breathe deep, and take the next step... even if you’re pretty sure you’re about to trip over a root.

Terror in a First Date Outfit (And Why It’s Totally Justified)

When I was younger, my biggest fear was stepping into tidepools barefoot and accidentally squishing something alive—so many tiny, unseen creatures, so much fragility. Turns out, dating feels eerily similar. Every first date takes me back to that queasy feeling: Am I about to crush something precious? Am I going to fall flat on my face? Have I, heaven forbid, picked the wrong outfit?

Take one particular date, not long ago. I agonized for hours over whether my oversized moss-green sweater said “cozy and approachable” or just “lives with 14 cats.” That sweater was the emotional equivalent of my safety harness—a nod to my love of practical, outdoorsy layers and my predilection for hiding my nerves under wool. This date and I had been texting for a week, his banter as sharp as the morning wind off Frenchman Bay. But when I walked into the cafe, my sweater did nothing to stop my brain’s anxious spiraling: What’s my opening line? Does he think my laugh is too loud? What if this ends with him ghosting me like a puffin disappearing into the fog?

Spoiler: The date did not end in dramatic abandonment. But it did teach me something crucial. Wearing your metaphoric (or literal) safety sweater might soften your nerves, but it won’t do the heavy lifting for you. The hard part, always, is showing up. And maybe ordering something other than the soup special, because trying to look charming while fumbling a spoonful of chowder? Not my finest hour.

Why Fear Makes Us Better (Even If It’s Monster-Sized)

There’s a reason so many of us balk at the idea of being vulnerable: fear is persuasive. It tells us to stay home in pajamas, to swipe left on anyone “out of our league,” to pretend bad dates don’t sting. And if we say no to enough first-date invitations or write off relationships before they start, fear wins.

But here’s the twist: fear has a sneaky little twin named growth. They’re inseparable, those two. Ask anyone who’s ever climbed a glacier (hi) or confessed feelings to someone via accidentally lengthy text (also me). It’s often the things we resist most that push us toward what we need.

So yes, fear might tower over us like some outlandish creature from Jurassic Park, teeth bared, ready to chomp at our self-esteem. But it also forces us to build emotional muscle. Total dud of a coffee date? That’s experience earned. Risking rejection to tell someone you like them? Emotional cardio, baby. No one runs a marathon without breaking a sweat.

3 Fear-Busting Lessons I Learned... the Hard Way

Let me be clear: there’s no magic fix for dating fears. If there were, I’d bottle it and sell it outside Acadia’s gift shops. But through some trial and a lot of error, I’ve figured out a few things that make facing the fear worth it.

  1. Reframe failure as a funny story.
    Look, not every date needs to be epic. My worst attempt at romance involved me tripping over a lobster trap while nervously explaining why I don’t ski. The laugh we both shared about it years later (over leftover pie at a mutual friend’s Thanksgiving) made it worth the awkwardness. Remember this: all epic stories have rocky beginnings. Bad dates make for great anecdotes.

  2. Your fear is a sign that you care.
    Numbness is easy. Real connection takes guts. If fear rears up, it means you’re investing yourself in this messy, wonderful process. As a kid, my dad used to say, “You don’t hike the Trail of the Cedar without scuffing your boots.” The best moments in life usually require a little grit.

  3. Small steps matter more than you think.
    You don’t have to leap into the Atlantic to prove you’re brave. Start with baby steps. Say yes to that drink invite, reach out to someone intriguing, or take the chance on a second date even if the first wasn’t fireworks over Bass Harbor. Growth happens in the accumulation of tiny, courageous choices.

The Cliffs—and the Connections—Are Calling

Funny thing about cliffs: they don’t get smaller the closer you get. Standing on the edge still makes my knees shake, whether it’s hiking up Beehive Trail or offering myself up emotionally to someone I barely know. But here’s the thing. Every time I push through that fear—whether I make it to the top or tumble into an awkward date story—I come out the other side a bit stronger. A bit braver. And a heck of a lot more myself.

I don’t know what fears you’re wrestling with. Maybe it’s asking someone out, admitting your feelings, or simply believing you’re worth the effort. But what I do know is this: life has a way of rewarding those willing to risk a little heartache for the chance to connect. So pack your metaphorical backpack, lace up your boots, and take that first step forward.

Who knows? You just might feel the wind in your hair and realize you’re flying after all.