I kicked the twisted sheets off my small legs, sprinted down the hall and into my parent’s bed room. With a flying leap, I was safe between my mom and dad.
As a child, I was frightened by the sound of sirens in the middle of the night. I tried to drown the sound by burying my head underneath my pillow, but it never quieted my fear. I was sure the fire engines were coming to our house.
This fear wasn’t grounded in anything realistic. We never had a house fire, neither had our neighbors, but the fear persisted.
My parents didn’t get angry or dismiss my fear as silly, when I charged into their room. They understood my fear was real and provided me with comfort and love. Once the sirens passed, I felt safe returning to my own bed.
As silly as it sounds, even now, when I hear sirens in the middle of the night, fear sets in. I picture a burning house or a terrible car accident. I guess some fears we never outgrow.
Do you have a childhood fear that has lingered?