Personal Narrative-La Lady Bugs

I can speak in front of an audience about Best Buddies, or be put on the spot and not flinch. I can go on a mission trip across the world, see poverty, anguish and violence yet not be afraid. I can learn to get along with my peers despite very strong contradictions in our ethics and styles. I can watch late night episodes of criminal minds and stay home alone with not an ounce of fear. But, there is one thing that makes shivers go up my body, tears stream down my face and my whole body just freeze.
Lady bugs. I spent years trying to be perfect, and if not perfectly perfect then at least seemingly perfect. I tried to be the person who always had a big smile, something wise to say and a positive outlook. I spent high school finding friends that I knew would help me become a better person. I got involved in countless activities and truly enjoyed every moment volunteering, participating and leading the organizations I belonged to. I tried to keep my cool at all costs, promising myself I would handle personal problems outside the eye of my peers. But, there was always one thing that broke my “image”, one thing that became my kryptonite.
At school, I try to be funny. I’m the first person to admit I am the slowest on the team, the worst pick for dodgeball, and probably not the person that should be trusted to be a tutor in math. So people talk about fears, whether it’s a get to know you game or a simple conversation filler, the topic is bound to come up. Most people I talk to have a fear of drowning, maybe being kidnapped, crashing on a plane, or falling off a cliff. I’m a realist and the things people are afraid of, well they aren’t common occurrences. But, on the other hand, my fear I face it almost every day, whether in a corner, on the ceiling or hidden outside I am bound to always be forced to fact