I will not be afraid

what fantasy taught me about fear, survival, and choosing to rise

Right now my life feels like the plot of a fantasy book. Do you know how we’d read all those books for more than the dragons, more than the adventure, more than the romantic interest? I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just my life that feels like fantasy, maybe it’s the entire world. It’s how we’re seeing evil rising, and a lot of readers don’t even realize.

Fantasy is not about magic, it’s not even about adventure. It’s about rising and daring to do what’s right in a time when everyone else is bowing their heads to the dark lord. Fantasy is not about romance, despite what BookTok wants us to believe. Women are not hopeless. Ophelia did not drown because of unrequited love.

Fantasy is when a girl decides to say ‘’I will not be afraid’’ even when the entire world is against her. Fantasy is about not siding with the oppressor. Fantasy is rising up despite all the trauma, pain, and desire not to. Fantasy is about Frodo wanting a peaceful life but choosing war anyway. Fantasy is not grooming disguised as dark romance.

For all my life I was afraid. I kept making myself smaller and smaller so I could fit in the cage they built for me, but still, there was always something off. I wanted to belong. I wanted my family to like me. I wanted their approval more than anything, but I could never do anything right. So I spent my entire life running, trying to stay safe from danger and to predict the worst case scenario – to find a way to be one step ahead, to be safe.

When I finally stayed still, my body couldn’t process all that I had lived. It couldn’t live with that horror story. So I couldn’t move anymore. I fell into a deep slumber that lasted years, like I was frozen in time. Years felt like days, and all I did was sleep and sleep and sleep. Unfortunately, I was under the hands of a negligent doctor who not only diagnosed me wrong, but kept me on the wrong medications. My life felt like a dream, like a nightmare, for a long time.

Slowly, but surely, I started moving again. For the first time in my life, I removed myself from a toxic environment, but I was not out of the woods. Everything felt different, not because the situation was different, but because I was. Something in me shifted. I was that same girl who used to be stuck in the tower, scared, thinking I was never going to make it out, but something inside of me told me not to give up, so I didn’t. And I made this Substack.

Everything changed. As I started writing, I started healing. And that felt like magic. Maybe magic isn’t wands, or potions, or dragons – but words. Maybe my life changed not when I entered a big magic tournament, but when I decided to resist everything they did by writing away my pain. Maybe the magic in my life isn’t in casting a spell, but by staying, by not becoming like them, by not letting my heart turn dark.

I’m not here to romanticize trauma. It hurts, and it hurts every single day. I didn’t choose to go through this. If I could have a say, I’d choose to have a loving family. I’d choose not to have to fight this hard just to survive. I’d choose to have a softer life. But those were not the cards I was dealt.

All that’s left for me to do, is follow the example of my heroines. Just because a dragon spits fire it does not mean they bowed their heads. In fact, it never matters so much for them to rise during those times. So I will do the same. I will not be bullied. I will not be intimidated. I will not be cornered. At least not as long as I live.

My name is Aurora Blythe, and I will not be afraid.

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I’ve made it this far through sheer will, words, and the kindness of strangers. If my story moved you, I urge you to act now. Please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. Even $1 helps. You can also purchase The Soft Rebirth: a Healing Journal (with healing prompts for rebuilding, healing and starting again) for only $5 here.

Thank you so much for reading, and for staying with me 🩷