One Act of Courage Could Change Everything
You don't have to be fearless to be brave
To the deep thinkers,
Welcome to the Deep Thinkers Newsletter: A collection of essays dedicated to going beyond the surface.
If you’re new here, check out the Deep Thinkers archive.
I grew up in a dysfunctional home where the man who raised me weaponized manipulation and anger. And as I matured, our relationship only grew more venomous.
Living under the same roof meant we were either fighting or pretending the other didn’t exist. But when I left for college, it seemed like distance had softened the nonstop friction between us.
I was so, so wrong.
Rather than soothe the animosity we held for each other when we were in the same house, the space had only repressed the emotions that needed to be released. And soon enough, they would.
After graduating, my family insisted I stay with them while I looked for an apartment. At first, I welcomed the idea. In the four years I’d been away, I’d only seen them sparingly. The first couple of weeks went well. However, the good times did not last.
One day, I overheard my mom and stepdad arguing. I don’t even remember what they were fighting about, but I do remember the moment she stepped outside to cool off. And I remember what he said as she left—a mean-spirited chuckle, followed by a five-letter word I won’t repeat here.
I was seething. A crimson wave of fury gripped my chest as I tried to breathe, to stay calm. My sister, who was in the room right across from me, had heard the same thing. So we decided to confront him together, and when we did, he brushed it off as a joke, offering a tepid apology only after we refused to let it go.
I’d seen and heard enough from this man. I fast-tracked my apartment search and told my mom the truth: she was married to a narcissist who would never change, and I swore in that moment never to speak to him again.
Unfortunately, after I left, he made life unbearable for my mom and sister. And so, my mom, a deeply religious woman who took her marriage vows seriously, had to make a choice. One that came with fear and uncertainty, but also, eventually, with freedom.
The paralytic sting of fear
"At the bottom of every one of your fears is simply the fear that you can't handle whatever life may bring you."
— Susan Jeffers
I find our relationship with fear fascinating. Not phobias, necessarily, but the social effects of being scared. We're wired to avoid pain, to flee from what threatens us. That’s why we’re so drawn to courage, not just in ourselves, but in others.
Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s rebellion in the face of it. It’s feeling afraid and stepping forward anyway. Those who chase a dream—a calling—especially one that veers from the preloaded path, know that fear is part of life’s dance. It’s baked into the choreography. Every step in the dance carries with it the weight of uncertainty. The fear of failure. Of pain. Of rejection. It’s all there.
Many, though, instead of choosing to dance, choose avoidance and remain stuck in the mud. I, on several occasions, have been no different. But I’ve learned that avoidance is the path of decay. On that path, nothing changes. The potential for greatness remains just that—potential.
If you feel, deep in your soul, that you’re meant to make a choice, or several, that run contrary to what’s expected of you, fear will be a factor.
You will feel:
The fear of ridicule—most people won't understand what you're trying to do. If you're going down a unique path, expect criticism.
The fear of failure—not every idea will work. Walking the road less traveled isn't supposed to be comfortable or easy. Failure is part of the process—necessary, even.
The fear of loneliness—being different can be very isolating. When we veer off the preloaded path, we will lose some connections and have to spend time in solitude.
There’s no way around the fear. You either cower and kneel to it, or you look it dead in the eye as you take a step forward. And then another. And another.
Life will not wait
I’ve always struggled with self-confidence, which is why it took me so long to share my writing online. Even as I’ve faced my fears, sharing my words here in this space (and watching my Substack grow), even as I make strides in other areas of my life, I still feel anxious and off-kilter at times.
I think that, so often, the problem is a lack of alignment with what some would call the higher Self. Not some supernatural or separate entity, but the still flame beneath the storm of thought. I’m talking about the source within my soul that pulls me away from ego, impulse, and social conditioning. When I’m blind to my internal convictions and out of sync with my values, fear becomes the main driver.
And historically, when I’ve let fear drive my choices, I’ve stayed in relationships and friendships past their expiration. I’ve made excuses. I’ve refused to take part in life’s dance.
Maybe you can relate to relinquishing your sovereignty to fear. Of putting off countless choices that you know deep down could change your life, but you're too scared to make them.
Fear is persuasive. It disguises itself as logic, patience, or practicality, whispering that now just isn’t the right time. And so we wait. And wait until waiting becomes a way of life. In those moments when I finally wake up from a fear-induced state, I find myself returning to a quote from the Stoic philosopher Seneca the Younger:
“Whatever time has passed is owned by death.”
Time doesn’t wait for anyone. It moves on. Eventually, certain doors and choices will vanish if we remain paralyzed by fear.
Changing the formula
It’s easy to sit here and tell you—or anyone—to just act in spite of fear. And sometimes, the advice really is that simple. But what I’ve found more helpful is viewing our relationship with fear as a kind of formula—predictable phases we pass through that keep us stuck.
What we need is a reframing. A new lens through which to see fear, not as a signal to retreat, but as a signal to grow. The goal isn’t to erase fear, but to alchemize it into something useful. Something that fuels movement rather than paralysis.
To consistently act despite fear, you have to change your formula.
Most of us unconsciously follow this pattern:
Fear → Paralysis → Inaction → Regret → Pain
But what if we could rewrite the script?
Fear → Power → Action → Results → Growth
You change this formula first through awareness. When you become conscious of the sequence of events that keep you stuck, you gain clarity, and with clarity comes confidence. Confidence makes movement possible. It allows you to shift your perspective.
Your perspective begins to change when you realize that no matter what you're facing, you always have a choice. When you recognize and accept your power to choose, you start from a place of strength. You become more resolute in your decisions, and that resolve brings with it a quiet excitement about taking action.
The goal is to move from paralysis to motion. The results won’t always look like conventional success—you’ll win some, lose some. That’s life. But you’ll always learn more from failure than you will from remaining frozen in place.
Here are a few mindset shifts to support that transition:
Remember that externals are not up to you. You only control so much. Don’t waste precious energy obsessing over another person’s choices or anything beyond your influence.
Avoid self-pity. Take responsibility for your life, but don’t spiral into self-shame. Mistakes are teachers, not proof of failure. Learn the lesson and move forward.
Monitor your inner critic. Your inner dialogue can either build you or break you. If the voice in your head keeps you stuck in the mud, it’s time to challenge it.
Be honest about what you want. Fulfillment begins with clarity. If you don’t know what you want, how can you take meaningful steps toward it?
The aftermath of courage
My mom finally filed for divorce. Despite the uncertainty of the future, I’ve made a promise to support her through this transition. She looked fear right in the eye and made a choice—a choice from a place of strength, from a place of power. And in a short amount of time, I’ve already seen just how much she’s grown.
I’d be lying if I said this change in our family has been all roses. It hasn’t been easy. We’ve struggled to adjust, but we’ve also grown closer as mother and son. I’ve been given the opportunity to return the favor for all the sacrifices she’s made for me. And she’s been given the chance to rediscover who she is. To build an identity separate from that of simply a wife. She is finding herself again, standing in all her radiant strength.
What choices are you running from? Are they the ones that could change your life forever? Be honest with yourself. Because what you’ll regret most, when it’s all said and done, are the moves you didn’t make.
You don’t have to be fearless. You just have to be willing. Willing to choose growth over comfort, and to believe, deep down, that you are capable of more.
If this essay resonated with you, consider supporting my writing journey! You can ‘buy me a coffee’ using the link below 👇🏾
What I’m into this week:
Sunny days
I ain't ask for much besides some sunny days
But sometimes it be cleansin' when the rain falls (when the rain falls, yeah)
Sometimes it be cleansin' when the rain falls (when the rain falls)
I might just go cleanse in the rain (rain)
—Rexx Life Raj, Cleanse
Write Everything Down (and not in your notes app) by Megan (Substack)
“If I don’t write something down physically, it won’t exist to me within a day or so.”
Real memory often lives on the page, in the tactile feeling of putting pen to paper. Of feeling the slowness in thought as we write down what’s on our mind, what’s on our heart.
Writing by hand helps tether our ideas to the body and the moment. It transforms fleeting thoughts into something grounded—something we can hold, return to, and grow from. In a world of endless digital scrolling, the page becomes a place where presence is practiced and the self is remembered.
Erich Fromm, Escape From Freedom (book)
To the degree to which the individual, figuratively speaking, has not yet completely severed the umbilical cord which fastens him to the outside world, he lacks freedom; but these ties give him security and a feeling of belonging and of being rooted somewhere. I wish to call these ties that exist before the process of individuation has resulted in the complete emergence of an individual "primary ties."
Much love,
- Jon ♾️
I needed to read this right now at this moment. Inaction has parlyazed me enough.
"... self-confidence, which is why it took me so long to share my writing online. Even as I’ve faced my fears... I still feel anxious and off-kilter at times."
Your honest reflections and statements like this encourage me to keep writing and finally start posting my own stories. Thank you.