Fears

This week, I learned to deconstruct my fears. I have many unrealistic fears in regards to my cake business. Every time I make a cake, I have this fear that the person I make it for will be sorely disappointed. They'll think of me as a fraud. They'll demand their money back, tell everyone they know how terrible the cake was, and make the neighborhood hate me. 

It's always a relief when customers share with me how much they loved their cakes, or post them on FaceBook and tell everyone they know how amazing the cake was. Over time, I'm starting to believe that my customers really do enjoy my cakes. But man, it takes a lot of guts to advertise and sell my cakes!

My other fear is that I'll fail miserably at a cake. It will look terrible, or taste gross and I'll have to give it to the customer, in utter embarrassment--disappointing them on a special day in their life. I avoid this by starting my cakes well in advance, practicing new techniques, and watching a lot of how-to videos on YouTube. I've only had one cake that I felt like wasn't as beautiful as I had envisioned. The white chocolate drips were lumpy and didn't look as smooth and elegant as I wanted. My husband kept reassuring me it was beautiful and I shouldn't be so hard on myself. He told me they would love it and no one expects perfection. Luckily, the customer was enamored and tagged me in the pictures they posted of it online to share how much they loved it. I'll probably make a few cakes that aren't as amazing as I'd hoped, but that's okay. I have been very successful thus far.

Ultimately, it was very helpful to focus on the fears I have that are holding me back. I realized that they really are just unrealistic fears, and all of them can be dealt with if they happen. The cost of avoiding things I’m afraid of is high. I won’t progress. I won’t grow and develop. 

 

When I’m facing a fear, I like to visualize myself at the end of a high diving board, ready to leap.  I’ll fall through the air, terrified, until I plunge into the cool water. I’m afraid of deep water and hate the feeling of free-falling. But every few years, I jump off the high dive to remind myself that I can do something utterly terrifying—because I’ll be okay.