Fear of Heights, Fear of Falling and Learning to Rise
The Contradiction
I love flying.
I love the feeling of take-off.
I love sitting by the window of a plane looking down at cities shrinking into patterns beneath the clouds.
I love standing at the top of tall buildings pressed against the glass watching the world move far below.
I love cliffs, mountains and dramatic views.
But don’t ask me to go near the edge.
That is where the problem begins.
A Fear that lives in the Body
I am deeply afraid of heights.
Not in a cinematic way.
In a very practical, bodily, irrational sort of way.
The kind where your stomach drops and your knees weaken.
The kind where your body behaves as though gravity has personally targeted you.
The Shoe That Might Fall
As a child, I used to curl my toes tightly inside my shoes whenever my mother brought me across river bridges.
Not because I thought I would fall.
Because I became convinced my shoe somehow might.
As though it would slip loose from my foot, disappear over the edge and be gone forever into the water below.
Even now, writing that, makes me laugh slightly.
And yet somewhere inside it feels deeply revealing.
Balance, Control and Staying Upright
I have always had an odd fixation around things falling away.
Losing grip. Losing balance. Losing safety. Losing control.
Whenever I stand on a stepladder, I become intensely aware of how fragile balance feels.
I hold my arms awkwardly wide like a tightrope walker.
If I need to reach upward, the panic arrives almost instantly.
I wobble.
Actually wobble.
Risk Everywhere Except Here
The strange thing is that I am not generally a timid person.
I have taken enormous risks in life.
I left difficult situations. I rebuilt repeatedly. I raised a child largely alone. I pursued self-employment. I kept starting over.
When I look at my life honestly, it contains far more risk than I usually give myself credit for.
Which makes my fear of heights feel oddly symbolic.
Perhaps it is not really about heights at all.
When Safety Feels Far Away
Perhaps it is about what happens when there is distance between you and safety.
When there is space beneath you.
When there is the possibility of falling.
Lately I have begun wondering how much of my fear comes from spending years psychologically bracing for impact.
Years of trying to stay steady. Years of trying not to lose footing. Years of trying not to fall apart publicly.
The Fear of Being Seen
There is something deeply vulnerable about being elevated.
You become visible.
Exposed.
And visibility has always carried complicated feelings for me.
Success itself can feel strangely similar to standing near an edge.
Exciting. Exhilarating. Beautiful.
And terrifying.
Living Close to the Ground
Because once you rise, there is always the possibility of falling.
Perhaps that is why I have spent so much of my life staying close to the ground.
Keeping expectations manageable. Keeping myself understated. Keeping dreams realistic.
If you never climb too high, you never fall too far.
At least that is what fear whispers.
When Protection Becomes Limitation
But fear is rarely interested in growth.
Fear is interested in protection.
And while protection matters, there comes a point where constant self-protection begins quietly shrinking your world.
I think I am at that point now.
Not fearless.
Just more aware.
More aware of how often fear has disguised itself as caution.
More aware of how much energy it takes to hold yourself back continuously.
More aware that safety and fulfilment are not always the same thing.
Choosing Courage Anyway
I still won’t go near the edge of a cliff comfortably.
I still grip railings.
I still feel my body tense standing on ladders.
But perhaps courage is not about eradicating fear.
Perhaps courage is simply deciding that fear no longer gets to design the boundaries of your entire life.
I suspect I will always carry some fear of heights.
But I no longer want to live entirely at ground level because of it.
WORD COUNT: 558 words
DATE: 8th December 2025
© SineadCKavanagh