Personal Narrative: It's Okay To Be A Deer

It’s Okay to be a Deer
It is hard for me to admit that I'm afraid. Being a black woman in today’s society, I constantly feel the pressure to prove something. The pressure to destigmatize, and rise above—to be better than the ill-gotten images depicted of my race and sex. The pressure to carry the entirety of my race and sex wherever I go, yet still be an individual. Facing all the pressure to become the model “strong independent black woman,” I am hesitant to admit I am afraid because fear is seen as weakness. Picture a horse or deer with their stick-like legs shaking in fright in cartoons—the stark opposite of historically mightier figures like lions or jaguars which portray power and confidence. However, what one may forget is the legs of that horse help pull the weight of 400 pounds, and the body of a dear can annihilate a two-ton vehicle. So fear—or what looks like fear—isn’t always a bad thing.
I must remind
I misidentified it as anger because society has placed fear in the deer category and anger in the lion category. But with age and long stares out of windows on late night bus rides home, I started to recognize the pressure I identified with from society. Then, I realized I could not feel such pressure if in some way I was not afraid of letting myself, or someone, down. Though it is not failure I am truly afraid of, it’s giving up. I know I am capable of success in whatever form that may take, just as long as I do not run away. As the old saying goes, “You are your own worst enemy.” This means I can stand in the way of my own success like no one else can. If someone tells me I cannot do something, as long as they do not physically hinder me, I can find a way to do it. But if I tell myself I cannot do something, I have physically and mentally hindered myself all at once since the mind and body work together. This would be giving up, not allowing myself the chance to